On the Burn the Fat website are dozens of before and after photos of men and women who’ve gone from fat to fit. Some of them didn’t look that bad before, actually. I mean, when you have your clothes on who is to know what lurks beneath? The program instructions say that I’m supposed to take my measurements using a tape and hi-tech fat caliper. Hell, over the years, I’ve turned into a Chinese Shar-Pei look-alike around the mid-section. Without the fur or blue-black tongue, thank goodness. My fingers tell me what I need to know. For now, there will be no before photo of me in a two=piece posted anywhere. Ever. There’s a limit to my commitment to getting fit. Public humiliation has never been a motivator for me.
Retrain the brain. Did a web search for ‘mindfulness’ and got 4,760,000 results. More than I want to know. A lot of them deal with stress. I’m not stressed; I just like to eat. There is a Mindfulness Everyday Institute in Toronto. They offer “MBSR (Mindfulness-Based Stress Reduction) workshops, in non-clinical settings, as well as programs for youth, parents and educators”. I’m wary of the mumbo-jumbo practitioners, but I need to jump start shifting my thought processes and becoming more focused. Downloaded a book on Eating Mindfully from the library website (love me some Overdrive). I may buy it, if it’s not all new-agey. I’m not sure what topic gets more ink – sex or food.
I also donated $10 and bought 100 tracks of Tibetan Bowl Meditation from a website called Bandcamp. Brian Green is the young man who did them, and he is also a gifted photographer. The name Bandcamp makes me laugh. Of course, it reminds me of the movie American Pie. The red-headed girl would start off by saying, “One time…at band camp…” then detail some unusual activities involving musical instruments. Never happened when I was in drum corps in the 60s. Then again, it was a Catholic school band and our musical director was a priest. Father Beauchamp, rest his soul. My goodness, but time flies.
Today, I have a hankering for chips. I don’t eat them, but for some reason I’m craving the salty, crunchy, fatty mouth feel of some thick ripple potato chips. Guess I’d better make some tea. Or eat a hot pepper.