Monday, June 18, 2007

Ennui of a Weight Watcher


I was doing so well. Lost about a pound a week so far this year. Dutifully recorded and tallied every ort of food ("Write it before you bite it.") Attending every meeting. Counting my points. Getting all my water in. Bringing my lunch. Doing the mind work. Nagging my spouse.

Then, "bam." I realized I'd become a Weight Watchers zealot. Some would say a-hole.

And the next thing I knew, I was really sick of the whole thing.

Yeesh. Those meetings. People bringing empty food wrappers and reading the nutritional information. Teenage girls counting how many chips are in a serving. The weigh-in ladies pointing at the numbers with smug judgement. The women who make peanut butter out of some astronauty powder. Or weigh chicken breasts. Or measure their ice cream. Or make a scene in restaurants. Or walk in circles around their tiny offices to get all their steps in. Or take off their wristwatches before they get on the scale.

I know everyone means well, and our leader is inspirational and funny.

But I think something is terribly wrong when I have 18 points to use in a day and I choose to blow them all on a Krispy Kreme breakfast. Or save them up all day so by dinner time I'm a low blood sugar time bomb.

Maybe I just need a break. A break made of Chips Ahoy, Lucky Charms, and a couple blocks of Tillamook cheese from Costco.

Yeah. Cheese. Some cheese sounds good. Bye for now.

8 comments:

Jas P. said...

In your litany of Weight Watcher stuff that bugs you, the one thing that seems like a good idea is walking more (although circling a cubicle seems nutty). I'm sure it sounds lame coming from a skinny guy, but exercise is more important than what you eat. It's not the eating. It's the sitting around and eating. It's the not-burning-off of the calories.

How do I know this? I weighed the same at 40 as I did at 20, because I was actually exercising more (and drinking less) at 40 than I was in college. BUT. When Jonah came along, I stopped going to the gym. And when Drop City came along, I was sitting at a computer all evening, having sat at one all day. My only exercise was yoga once a week. And what happened? I gained 10 pounds in five years, and the waist size of my jeans expanded two inches. Then I hurt my heel and couldn't do yoga. I'm just now getting back to it--at 15 pounds over my two-decades-long static weight. I still eat what I always ate--probably less, in fact, of the same stuff. But I'm not burning it off. I'm sitting.

Idear: Wanna take a daily walk? We could go over to Union Station and back, via the indoor walkway. We'd boost our metabolism, expend a few ergs, and talk shit about everyone. It'd be a good break. Y'think?

mol the doll said...

Yeah, I joined the gym Steve's been going to,
and that should help with sustaining the weight loss. (He's lost 40!)

Walking to Union Station sounds good, if I can keep up with your perky pace.

Eric Weslander said...

I think Tillamook cheese actually tastes better because of the name.

Jas P. said...

Funny Eric should say that. I wrote a long sequence of the Drop City hippies on the bus, moving from one failed spot to another. After they pass through Tillamook, there's some brief scene of the manic commune leader, sitting at the wheel of the bus, wired on speed, chanting under his breath, a la William Tell Overture, "Tillamook, Tillamook, Tillamook-mook-mook..." It's such a great name.

I'm calling you today about walking. Don't think I won't.

liz said...
This comment has been removed by the author.
liz said...

I've been at a few dinners where the company was trim as can be, but could talk of nothing but points. I think I'd rather have chubby company that makes good conversation!

Liza Jane said...

My 6 months of working out at the YMCA have left me with similar feelings. Skinny people who are smug make me head right for the Oreo bag. I just try to keep remembering this T-shirt I saw once: I might be fat. But you are stupid. And I can diet.

redbird said...

tillamook cheese is the best cheese in the world. lately i've had a craving not just for the cheese but for the factory, where you watch them sift, cut, and hug the curds into big spongy blocks before you eat blackberry ice cream at the gift shop. molly, if you don't win australia, maybe we should do tillamook. there's lots of hiking & biking there, so we could burn off a few points before taste testing the cheddar.