IMG_4084When I turned 55, I said 43 years is enough. Done.

No more diets.

I no longer talked about them or thought about them. I threw out all the books. I ate whatever I wanted.

Interestingly, for these last 3 1/2 years, whenever I stepped on the scale, my weight was always within a 5-pound range. And it still is.

But in the last year or so, I’ve become conscious of how poorly I eat. I don’t like cooking. I just want something fast and easy. Cheese and crackers. Chips with cheese. Chips and dip. I lost the taste for vegetables. I felt fine.

But I was also conscious of the um…for lack of a more elegant term, roll of fat around my middle.

My physical therapist, Joel, begged me to eat better–You take care of yourself in every other way, he said. Except food. It doesn’t make sense.

Well, of course, it did. Being on and off diets for 43 years coupled with cooking for a family for 30 years.

Joel suggested It Starts with Food. The book promotes the Whole30 Program, which I liked as a kind of reset button from which I could move forward–getting all of the sugar, grains, dairy, alcohol out of my system for 30 days.

Feeling more and more ready to take some kind of action, I looked at my calendar. When I saw him a few weeks ago, I said, I can’t find any string of 30 days I could devote to this kind of intense change. And surprisingly, shockingly actually, Joel said, You don’t have to be perfect.

Amazing I still have to be told this.

When I came back from paradise, which included platters of food and buckets of those tropical drinks, I was ready to start healthy eating, meaning healthy eating. And for the last week, I’ve been making better choices–more vegetables, more real food, less sugar (read candy), less processed food, less alcohol, fewer carbs.

And so far, it feels good.


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