Datebook: Thursday, December 28th ~ 2006
This is the problem with New Year’s resolutions—we don’t take them seriously.
Every year we decide what we want to change and/or give up. In the past, mine have gone something like this—I will stop wearing turtleneck sweaters so I don’t look like a Shar-pei, and I won’t eat brussel sprouts anymore-- in case there is a shortage or something.
We make one family resolution each year, and although we started out with good intentions—drink 1% or 2% milk instead of whole, we have taken that slippery slide down and now our affirmation to take more Vitamin C means booking a week at the Atlantis.
My husband told me last year he was going to drink less soda. That sounded great so I did not buy any when I went to the grocery store on January 2. Later that night he opened the refrigerator and then shut it, and then opened it again (I know, like there has ever been a food magic trick!)
“Where is the coke?” He asked, puzzled.
“I didn’t buy any; I’m helping you with your resolution.”
He opened the door again, and then looked at me. “What? You didn’t buy any? I told you I was cutting back, not stopping.”
“Babe,” I say to him like I’m a Janet Evanovitch character, “You’re talking about Coca-Cola, I think when other people talk about being addicted to Coke, they’re talking about something else.”
“I’m not addicted to soda,” he almost shouts, checking the pantry and then the refrigerator again, “It’s just that nothing else really quenches my thirst”.
“Oh, well there is some Gatorade in the bottom of the pantry, athletes use that.”
“My electrolytes are fine, I’m just thirsty.”
Ten minutes later I see him in the kitchen with a bottle of Coke that has been sitting in the cup holder of his car for two days.
“You’re not drinking that?”
“I told you I was cutting back, I didn’t even finish this on Friday. And I’m splitting it with water, so now I’ll drink half water and half soda. I’m cutting back by fifty percent.”
"I don’t know. If you drink the same amount of soda but add 50% water, you are technically taking in more liquids.”
“Exactly my point. You always say we should drink more water so not only am I cutting back on soda but I’m adding more water. A double win!”
Most of us make resolutions about changing our weight. In fact, in four days we are going to be bombarded with Weight Watcher commercials and seeing Lean Cuisine coupons in the Sunday paper.
Ten years ago, I made a resolution to get down to the size I was when I was 18. I actually made it to my 27-year old weight when a hollow chocolate Easter Bunny sent me to skid row. Like any chocoholic, one bite derailed months of work, because of course, once you’ve eaten bunny ears its just a matter of time before the Reese’s and Robin’s Eggs follow the same dreadful path.
I have tried to be moderate since then. I resolve to “eat less”, and “exercise more”. I park at the end of the lot to make myself walk. I buy imitation spray-on margarine and fat-free dressing.
But not much happens.
I am a competitive person, but sometimes this works in the wrong way. My family (who collectively have about 2% body fat) are fascinated by the show “The Biggest Loser”. I have watched it a few times but instead of being motivated to put on stretch shorts that are two sizes too small and jump on a scale in front of a crowd, I feel compelled to eat a bowl of ice-cream. With whipped cream. I know, it must be a trigger or something.
So this year I have asked my family to really take this seriously and come up with resolutions that are sincere yet possible.
I am still going with the weight thing. But instead of asking to fit into a size 5 again (please, I’m big-boned!) I am going to be reasonable and just shoot for having my clothes feel better when they are on—this means for me that if I reach over to put on my socks it will not feel like the back of my blouse is ripping and that I will never feel I need to unbutton my pants after eating again.
To help with this resolution I am using Oprah’s life diet guru Bob Green. I just bought the book and his first suggestion is that you don’t even try to cut back on what you eat initially. I know! He suggests increasing your exercise and eating like you always do until your body gets used to the changes. Anyway, since we all know that 3 weeks from tomorrow is the start of, or at least the departure for, Nationals, this should work out perfectly.
I don’t have to change what I eat or drink right away, say until about January 28th, and I just need to increase my activity.
No problem. I am not going to be able to watch so I’ll just keep circling the arena, doing nerve laps while the skating is going on.
If I see you walking the perimeter with me, I’ll know you’re reading the same book. If I’m eating an ice cream cone, don’t be surprised.
Mombo
Every year we decide what we want to change and/or give up. In the past, mine have gone something like this—I will stop wearing turtleneck sweaters so I don’t look like a Shar-pei, and I won’t eat brussel sprouts anymore-- in case there is a shortage or something.
We make one family resolution each year, and although we started out with good intentions—drink 1% or 2% milk instead of whole, we have taken that slippery slide down and now our affirmation to take more Vitamin C means booking a week at the Atlantis.
My husband told me last year he was going to drink less soda. That sounded great so I did not buy any when I went to the grocery store on January 2. Later that night he opened the refrigerator and then shut it, and then opened it again (I know, like there has ever been a food magic trick!)
“Where is the coke?” He asked, puzzled.
“I didn’t buy any; I’m helping you with your resolution.”
He opened the door again, and then looked at me. “What? You didn’t buy any? I told you I was cutting back, not stopping.”
“Babe,” I say to him like I’m a Janet Evanovitch character, “You’re talking about Coca-Cola, I think when other people talk about being addicted to Coke, they’re talking about something else.”
“I’m not addicted to soda,” he almost shouts, checking the pantry and then the refrigerator again, “It’s just that nothing else really quenches my thirst”.
“Oh, well there is some Gatorade in the bottom of the pantry, athletes use that.”
“My electrolytes are fine, I’m just thirsty.”
Ten minutes later I see him in the kitchen with a bottle of Coke that has been sitting in the cup holder of his car for two days.
“You’re not drinking that?”
“I told you I was cutting back, I didn’t even finish this on Friday. And I’m splitting it with water, so now I’ll drink half water and half soda. I’m cutting back by fifty percent.”
"I don’t know. If you drink the same amount of soda but add 50% water, you are technically taking in more liquids.”
“Exactly my point. You always say we should drink more water so not only am I cutting back on soda but I’m adding more water. A double win!”
Most of us make resolutions about changing our weight. In fact, in four days we are going to be bombarded with Weight Watcher commercials and seeing Lean Cuisine coupons in the Sunday paper.
Ten years ago, I made a resolution to get down to the size I was when I was 18. I actually made it to my 27-year old weight when a hollow chocolate Easter Bunny sent me to skid row. Like any chocoholic, one bite derailed months of work, because of course, once you’ve eaten bunny ears its just a matter of time before the Reese’s and Robin’s Eggs follow the same dreadful path.
I have tried to be moderate since then. I resolve to “eat less”, and “exercise more”. I park at the end of the lot to make myself walk. I buy imitation spray-on margarine and fat-free dressing.
But not much happens.
I am a competitive person, but sometimes this works in the wrong way. My family (who collectively have about 2% body fat) are fascinated by the show “The Biggest Loser”. I have watched it a few times but instead of being motivated to put on stretch shorts that are two sizes too small and jump on a scale in front of a crowd, I feel compelled to eat a bowl of ice-cream. With whipped cream. I know, it must be a trigger or something.
So this year I have asked my family to really take this seriously and come up with resolutions that are sincere yet possible.
I am still going with the weight thing. But instead of asking to fit into a size 5 again (please, I’m big-boned!) I am going to be reasonable and just shoot for having my clothes feel better when they are on—this means for me that if I reach over to put on my socks it will not feel like the back of my blouse is ripping and that I will never feel I need to unbutton my pants after eating again.
To help with this resolution I am using Oprah’s life diet guru Bob Green. I just bought the book and his first suggestion is that you don’t even try to cut back on what you eat initially. I know! He suggests increasing your exercise and eating like you always do until your body gets used to the changes. Anyway, since we all know that 3 weeks from tomorrow is the start of, or at least the departure for, Nationals, this should work out perfectly.
I don’t have to change what I eat or drink right away, say until about January 28th, and I just need to increase my activity.
No problem. I am not going to be able to watch so I’ll just keep circling the arena, doing nerve laps while the skating is going on.
If I see you walking the perimeter with me, I’ll know you’re reading the same book. If I’m eating an ice cream cone, don’t be surprised.
Mombo
posted by ice-dance.com @ 7:50 PM
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So baking cookies is not a time for pleasant memories. No dainty aprons and oven mitts decorated with snowmen or jolly Santas. I have tried at least three times to make sugar cookies, the kind that have to be “rolled” into thin panes of pasty dough that even if you get the consistency correct will wad up into beige doughballs when touched by a spatula. Even if I used a streetpaver, I could never get them thin enough to bake and or eat.
This morning he tried a new ploy by asking, seemingly out of the blue, “What’s that brand of bath salts that you like so much, I really like the smell?”
As I have mentioned, I am an instructor in the art of the English language. My students are currently savoring the flavor of Shakespeare’s Macbeth and Twelfth Night. As we all know, Shakespeare had quite the flair with a quill and was very clever with the pun and unusual word order. He was, in fact, the master of wordplay, repartee, and double entendre, which is fast becoming a lost art form.
The Mombo Comedy Club will issue invitations to the several skaters; some are not ice-dancers so we will have to entice them to journey to northern New York in August for an opportunity to regale us with their mirth.
