As far as my writing goes, not so well. I don’t know what to do with this book. It starts slow, and is still slow toward the middle. Something is finally going on plotwise, but not fast enough. I am wondering if I have to start it over from scratch. It just isn’t writing right.
As far as my garden goes — we scaled it back because of the lack of sunlight in the yard — it’s now herbs and tomatoes. I don’t mind this. Now to keep the weeds out — there’s a lot of marauding wild garlic in there that buries itself so deeply you can’t pull up the roots. That’s a bit of a pain for weeding.
As far as my diet goes, I have lost 10 pounds (I think). I’m not hungry a lot of the time, which is a good thing. I think this will work well.
As far as book sales go, do you know I have a couple of books out? I have written several. They can be found at: Lauren Leach-Steffens Amazon Page.
I have another Big Audacious Goal I hadn’t counted on, and that is to lose some weight. I am way too plump for my doctor’s liking, and now I have to do something about it. My weight is starting to affect my health.
This is going to be a neverending goal, and that is a bit daunting for me. I have a sugar addiction (and I mean this in the most literal way possible). I have always had disordered eating in the form of sweet foods. My doctor said, “I mean you can have those things occasionally,” but given our game plan, I don’t know how.
The goal is to eat around 120 grams of carbs a day. That is not a SMART goal, so I need to work on it. I will set a goal of 127 grams of carbs, 48 grams of fat, and at least 60 grams of protein a day (give or take a few). This is based on a 1500 calorie a day intake. I will choose complex carbs like fruits and vegetables and whole grains. I will track my food intake daily to see if I meet those goals. I will weigh myself once a week. I will wean myself onto Ozempic according to my doctor’s instructions.
Notice I focused on my actions instead of the results. If I had said “I will lose 2 pounds a week”, I might have run into problems, as this doesn’t take into account my 62-year-old metabolism. Focusing on my actions makes more sense, because that’s what I can do something about. I made my goals realistic (I can do this!) and specific and measurable. The only thing is it isn’t time bound because it’s open-ended. I should be eating this way for the rest of my life, I suspect.
There are things this BAG needs. Like “how often can one diverge from this meal plan to have occasional ‘bad things’?” (I don’t care what dieticians say, there are ‘bad foods’ when an ice cream concrete leads to a sugar binge). A goal of how much weight to lose (at the moment, that’s 50 pounds. I have more than 50 pounds to lose, to be honest, but we’re being realistic).
So far, after two weeks of following this protocol, so good. I haven’t had a bad eating day and I have lost 3 pounds. Knowing my past attempts at losing weight, this stage is not the problem. The problem is keeping it off, especially when faced with desserts. Wish me luck.
When I was five, I wanted to be a doctor. I think that’s because doctors seemed so different than anyone else I had encountered at that age. They had their own offices, they wore white coats, and they talked to little kids instead of over their heads.
When I was eight, I aspired to be a poet. My third-grade teacher taught an ambitious unit on poetry where we actually wrote in different forms (my diamante was less than desirable, but my limerick was pretty good). She had posted my Groundhog Day poem (free-form) on the door of the classroom. I told my mother I wanted to be a poet and she asked, “Do you like to eat? Poets don’t make enough money to eat.” That was the end of my vocational aspiration, because I did like to eat. I went back to wanting to be a doctor.
When I was ten, I saw a lot of doctors for a stubborn malady. At that point, I had had enough of doctors, and that cured me of wanting to be one. My career aspirations were on hold until I hit high school. When I was sixteen, I wanted to be a dietitian because I had lost a significant amount of weight. I was what they would call nowadays an orthorexic, someone who followed a strict diet and lost more weight than advisable. I held that aspiration until my sophomore year of college, when I started gaining the weight back and feared the organic chemistry classes I would need to take. I changed to Foods in Business, a corporate foods career.
By the end of my sophomore year, I wanted to be a professor. I didn’t know what I wanted to be a professor of, but I had a friend whose father was a professor and I wanted a lifestyle that would keep me in academia. It took me till my first semester senior year to find the answer. I took a family economics class as an elective, and I fell in love with the class. We talked a lot about why women earned less than men, and I found the discussion intriguing. After class one day, I asked the professor if grad school was a possibility. She escorted me down the hall to the department office and introduced me to the department chair. Thus, I got into graduate school in Family and Consumption Economics pretty easily.
Once I got my PhD, my jobs have been only slight detours in my field. I teach a few psychology classes, due to my many hours in Psychology along the way. I teach human services classes, which in my case are akin to what I trained in. At one point, I wanted to be a winemaker when I retired, but I now think that would be too much physical labor. Now, I want to be a writer when I retire.
Me before the weight lossMe now, thirty pounds lighter
I didn’t get any likes from any agents in #sffpit yesterday, but I celebrate myself for thirty pounds lost. To make my doctor happy, I have to lose thirty more pounds. Please understand that I will still be overweight by American standards, because it would take putting myself in danger in losing any more weight than that. But my doctor will be happy, I’ll be healthier, and I’ll get to wear cuter clothes.
I have lost and gained so much weight in my life I could be triplets. Obese triplets. I’m not sure what the problem is, except that if I start eating sweets, I crave sweets to the exception of anything else, even when not hungry. It’s something I have little control over unless I do something drastic: eat responsibly. And keep eating responsibly even when the sugar cravings scream at me.
I’ve chosen to eat responsibly again. The type of responsible where half the plate consists of fruits and vegetables and, most importantly, the sweets are kept to a minimum. Greasy foods are kept to a minimum as well, but the real focus is on what health nuts call “eating clean”. (Vegans use the phrase slightly differently to mean “not eating animal products.” Although I don’t each much meat, I don’t shun it entirely.) I eat one small sweet thing a day — usually dark chocolate.
This situation is stressing me after only two weeks of lifestyle change. Not that I have trouble following the new dietary rules — I do follow them and follow them well. But the eventual arrival of sweets in the house for Christmas is putting me into a panic. I know how to deal with it — only eat one sweet thing a day. Focus on healthier food. Get variety. Love vegetables. But I’m still irrationally panicking. How can I just not care so much about sweet food?
Some people find it easy to stay thin. Some people struggle to lose weight. Once I start, I can lose weight as well as anyone else my age (which is to say slowly). But my addiction to sweets takes over again and I say “the hell with moderation” again.
I can’t let sugar take over my life again. My doctor says I’m hurting my body with this weight gain. I can do it. I just have to keep it up.
Words Like Me 