Thanksgiving. My favorite holiday!
The company, the gratitude, the love, the food. You can’t really ask for much more.
Despite the wonders of this particular holiday, just the thought of Thanksgiving dinner, and the Holiday Season to follow, can send so many of us into a tailspin of food and fat-obsession.
You start counting your calories a week or two out, making room for what’s to come. You hit the gym extra hard, so you don’t store the fat from your grandmother’s homemade gravy after dousing your plate. You vow to only have one slice of pie. If you can just make it through this holiday season without packing on the pounds...
I get it! I’ve been there.
Let me tell you about it.
Years back after a period of losing a significant amount of weight, I experienced my very first binge. Little did I know, after that first binge, there would be many to follow.
I had been following a very low calorie and very high intensity workout plan developed by a local trainer. The pounds were falling off and even after the program ended, I stuck with it. Losing more and more each week.
Enter Thanksgiving Day.
The day started off with a killer workout that boasted an intense calorie burn to prepare for the onset of the Thanksgiving Day Feast. I returned home and got to prepping; I am the hostess after all!
As I prepped, I nibbled here and there, vowing not to overdo it. As I put out the appetizers, I snagged a few before anyone else could get to them. As my guests helped themselves, I found myself circling back to the cheese plate every opportunity that I got. I wanted to make sure I had my fair share!
Let me tell you, after eating little to no fats for a few months cheese tastes good. Like, really good.
Before I knew it the cheese plate was gone. So, I moved on to the mozzarella wrapped in prosciutto and every other flavorful concoction that Pinterest had inspired.
I took a break only to put the final touches on dinner.
I was feeling super full, almost uncomfortable.
As the family sat down to dinner and shared their thanks, I was just about salivating over the spread that I had so carefully designed and prepared. As the last proclamation of gratitude came to a close, we dug in.
And by we, I really mean me.
Serving after serving.
You know what’s next.
Dessert. Ahhhh, all the carbs! Sugar... My long lost friend!
I tried every last dessert. I could barely stomach it, but I was making up for lost time. For lost taste, for lost pleasure.
The rest of my night was spent feeling like I was going hurl, with my heart pounding out of my chest and in an actual cold sweat. I spent the evening laying in my bed, so uncomfortable that I didn't have the physical ability to move.
Let me break down what happened next.
The next week I jumped back on my restrictive diet. In my head it made sense to make up for the damage that was done.
The next weekend it was like groundhog’s day. I went to a party and ate. And ate. AND ATE.
The next week I restricted. Followed by a weekend binge.
Yup. Groundhog's day.
Week after week.
Weekend after weekend.
For around a year.
I was weighing myself daily, often times multiple times per day. By the time Friday rolled around I had typically (and I'll admit, at the time, satisfactorily) lost the "water weight" that came along with my binge. But I was suffering some serious emotional damage. I was obsessed with maintaining my size. I was terrified of eating the "wrong" food during the week and I was convinced that there was something wrong with me for not being able to control myself around food.
So, why am I telling you this?
Because our diet, image obsessed culture has you believing that if you try a little harder, exercise a little more, and eat a little less, you'll finally be happy. But, in fact, it's a complete setup. A setup to be at war with food. A setup to be at war with your body.
For every action there is an opposite reaction
I want to help you find a balanced way and intuitive way to live your life.
Right now. Not 10 pounds from now.
When I was in the throes of binging and restricting it was hard for me to imagine not thinking about food and the way my body looked allllll the damn time. But, change is possible. It can be a long road to undo what you’ve internalized about diet and exercise, but it's possible and f*ing freeing to live a life of moderation.
Are you in?
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