See, the screwed up thing about me is that my calories aren't hiding from me. There isn't an errant oil-soaked crouton cowering underneath my healthy mound of field greens, or a furtive bacon bit that's made its way to the wrong side of my broiled chicken breast. My calories stand up on my plate, waving their little arms feverishly, screaming, "Hey!! Check me OUT!!! How AWESOME does this cheese look on me?!? Party with me!"
Since my big ol' weight loss 6 years ago, I can gauge pretty easily how many calories and fat calories there are in most foods. I just choose to ignore that information and dig in. Lately, I've been eating as if I'm bulking up for the big weightlifting competition or my role as Al Capone in the new all-female version of The Untouchables. (Who says men get to corner the market on gratuitous violence?)
I'm attempting to change that now, and Tanya's class was a nice primer and reminder. This is Tanya, by the way:
Tanya Barham:She's really peppy, loves to exercise, and is as pretty as all get-out.
Why don't we hate her? It's a mystery.
Oh, and this was Tanya's dinner:
Yes, as a matter of fact, it IS a burger.You got somethin' to say about it? Huh, punk?
Tanya can have a burger for dinner because Tanya's relationship with food is actually a healthy one. Eating this burger won't make Tanya kick her self-esteem repeatedly in the nuts (didn't realize your self-esteem had nuts? Well, you learn something new every day) because she knows how to budget her daily caloric intake and she's an exercisin' fool. So back off, Judgy McGee.
It's all about balance. And as soon as my boobs look like boobs and not like I'm smuggling midgets in my bra, I'll have balance, too.
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