I Love To Eat, But This Year I’m Cutting Down For My Health

I am the kind of girl who can proudly out-eat anyone. “Hey, look at me eat this burrito the size of a toddler!” “Fried pig skins? Bring it!” “Chicago style pizza? Put it in my belly!” Etcetera. I am not ashamed of my love of food. Only yesterday my boyfriend had to talk me out of buying a dress with hamburgers on it. I can unapologetically enjoy a decadent meal like few women can. I don’t order salads at restaurants. I don’t get the grilled chicken. In fact, once, a plate of barbeque literally made me dance the mashed potato.

But I’m doing an unusually girly thing for the New Year: I am not going on a diet, per se, but rather cutting my food intake and attempting to eat healthier. For me, diets are for orange-colored celebrities and sorority girls trying to fit into a bikini for spring break in Cancún.

I consider this to be a slight lifestyle change. Why am I doing this? Partly because yesterday my jeans cut off my circulation. They were so tight, I kept doing squats throughout the day to loosen them up to no avail. I’m  also doing this because after one particular holiday feast, I was so full, I almost laid on the ground to allow the food to more comfortably spread out in my aching stomach and yelled “Why, God, why?”

I have been blessed with a decent metabolism because people are often shocked by my food intake in the context of my size. I also work out frequently, which helps.  I have been a well-proportioned 130 lbs for many years now. I have never been ashamed of my weight, or ever had the desire to be thin. Maybe it’s because I grew up in a working class Mexican family, and to be thin in my family is alarming.  Drop a few pounds and people will think you’re clinically depressed or have AIDS. Your mom and tías will surround you with worried faces: “¿Mi’ja que te pasa? ¿Estás deprimida?  ¿Atiriciada?”  You just may be fed a plate of frijoles against your will.

And although I will love food forever, and will never be one of those women fainting during a juice fast, I have realized that I much too often take refuge in food. Though my boyfriend and I usually cook nutritious and delicious meals, when I really dislike my job — for example — I just want to eat an Italian beef smothered in cheese and hot peppers with a side of fries to make myself feel better. Too many times I have found myself reclining on my couch, clutching my stomach and cursing a torta.

So here I am at the beginning of this new endeavor.  As I fantasize about the ham and cheese croissant across the street, I am cramming my mouth with granola bars. My body is in shock. I have the shakes. My co-worker is starting to look like a hot dog. I can do this, though. After a few days of nutritious meals, I will reward myself. For me, there will always be a burger at the end of the tunnel.

[Photo By inajeep]

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