Yeah. Hubby’s supplemental insurance covers a few trips to a registered dietition every year. I’ve been putting it off since January but with the gastric bypass looming, I thought I should give it a try. My appointment was Monday evening.

No disrespect intended to the profession but the consultation really wasn’t what I was hoping for. I was so hoping to come away with some idiot-proof diet plan or some giant revelation about myself that would automatically fix everything. When will I ever learn? I guess I did get a revelation of sorts though, just not what I really intended or wished for.

I’ve been dieting since I was 14 years old. That’s 36 frigging years. The lovely young woman talked to me for nearly an hour and she did not say one frigging thing that I did not already know. Okay. I don’t DO it all, but I sure as hell KNOW…well not ALL but most of what is pertinent in the world of nutrition.

Turns out we’ve already made most of the big changes: we don’t drink soda–regular or diet. We don’t consume trans fat or high fructose corn syrup (much easier to accomplish here in Canada, BTW.) We limit our fat intake to the good kind–olive oil mostly and some non-hydrogenated margarine with added omega-3. Butter is for special occasion baking or a teaspoon here and there for flavor only. We rarely eat chips or candy. I don’t buy packaged processed foods at all. I buy ingredients and I cook or bake. I buy whole wheat flour. We don’t eat a lot of the “white foods” like white flour, white sugar, potatoes, pasta etc. (I admit that I do buy white pasta because I can’t find a whole wheat pasta that doesn’t taste like crap. But I don’t eat it more than once a month. Hubby does but he’s normal sized so he can.) I don’t even buy commercial cereal. I make granola! It’s too calorie-dense for me so I rarely eat it but Hubby likes it; It sticks with him during a long work day and keeps him out of the candy machine so it isn’t too much trouble. We even get our dairy in the form of non-fat yogurt. Yikes! I never would have thought that a few years ago. I thought the stuff was vile–but in a smoothie with a banana or some berries and it’s pretty good.

You know what my big revelation was? My diet isn’t so bad at all! No, I don’t eat enough fruits and vegetables. I could knock off a little more fat–ease up on the sauces a bit, but all in all, I AM NOT the binge eater I thought I was. She showed me an 1800 calorie diet and I have to say that there are days when I don’t think I’m getting that many calories. If I have a problem with food it’s that I feel guilty about every damned mouthful. That is going to stop.

She suggested I keep a journal to make sure I’m not eating “unconsciously” and I might do that but I might not. I just cannot go back to weighing and measuring every bite like I did on Weight Watchers. That way lies madness for me. It will make me Crazy. I will be weighing everything, measuring everything and then second-guessing myself and having massive guilt about the next mouthful–even while obsessively planning the next meal. And LYING to myself on my own food journal that no one else ever sees. That’s pretty nutty, right? That’s what happens. And it’s just a short stroll down Crazy Lane until I’m back buying the senna tea and the Ex-Lax and standing on the scale 2 hours of every day. So I’m still working out in my head how to accomplish a food journal that doesn’t get me all crazy. Suggestions are welcome. Should I write down just that I ate this thing or that thing but not discuss portion size? Maybe that will work for now. I don’t know.

So if it isn’t the intake so much then what IS the friggin problem? Why am I so damned fat?

Should I sit here and whine about hormones or ADD or some new syndrome du jour? Nay, nay. I know what’s the problem; I just haven’t wanted to admit it.

Exercise. Or lack thereof. I’m so damned lazy. I sit here at home day after day and I don’t go anywhere and I don’t work up a sweat. Computer to sofa to ‘fridge to bed. And the place isn’t that big.

So, Boys and Girls, this is where the rubber…er the FatLady hits the road.

I have to learn to move my gigantic ass. And I have to learn to do it without getting all crazy and exercising obsessively on Day 1 and Day 2 and then injuring myself on Day 3 and quitting. Been there; done that. (The tee shirt doesn’t fit any longer.)

Yesterday I walked home from my volunteer gig. It isn’t far. It’s actually embarrassingly close for me to admit that I usually drive my husband all the way to work, drive all the way back, go to the volunteer office, drive home, and then drive all the way back to Hubby’s work to pick him up. From both a personal and an environmental standpoint that is absolutely shameful. Hell from an economic standpoint it’s pretty shameful also. Gas is over $1.00/liter here and has been for the three years I’ve lived here. It isn’t as though we drive some enermous SUV or something but 10 year old Pontiacs don’t get the best mileage.

So I walked. I actually hustled my big butt pretty quickly too because I was walking in a slush storm. It was pretty unpleasant weather but at least it kept me from whining inside my head about how out of breath and out of shape I am. Today my activity is cleaning this place with a little bit of vigor. Maybe later I’ll go haul myself up a couple flights of stairs. Yes. I will definitely do that.
It remains to be seen if I can move enough to lose enough weight to control my blood pressure and make myself happier with my appearance. I think my metabolism is pretty–um–slow. But I think I’ll take a couple months to work on it to see what I can do. If I can avoid gastric bypass surgey by going for a damned walk–then I owe it to myself to lace up the shoes, right?