Down 7

Since I would like to be thought of as so much more than an eater of cookies, I have vowed not to bore you with the daily trials and tribulations of defatification 2010. After all, it would only be embarrassing for both of us if the true number of times in a month I think about donuts was revealed. However, by way of keeping me honest, I think I shall update you at the end of each month. January was a good month. I exercised, I ate modest amounts of cheese, there were no cookies to speak of.

While the traditional dieting month is January, this is actually a continuation of defatification 2008 which was derailed in 2009 by stress/moving/laziness. And that would be my lesson: laziness is the true enemy of not-fat.

If you appraise your intake with an objective eye, it is easy to see that how much we eat is frequently more of the problem than what we eat. I say this as a devourer of boxes of cookies and loaves of bread. Bread is not my problem, bread in moderation is. But when I allocate the brain space to consider bread in relation to reasonable amounts, it is really quite easy to see that two pieces of bread is ok and anything more than that is becoming not ok. See also steak.

Devoted partner and I do love our red meat. We never ate it an immoderate number of times per week, but when we did eat it, we had a one pound steak between us. Also known as about twice the amount of steak one should consume. And every once in a while, like when your brother and his friend complete the New York marathon and you all go to Sparks to celebrate, yeah, eat up. That steak cost like 50 bucks! But when it's just the two of you on a Wednesday night, perhaps you could eat less steak and more of something else, like peas.

Dessert is the other biggie. I will admit that a day without dessert is, indeed a day without sunshine. And here I had to make a choice. Which was more important? Dessert or eating things without strange ingredients? Yeah, dessert won. Those sugar-free Jello puddings, I don't know what's in them, but I do know that they are the difference between sunshine-free days and days with sunshine; see also the tragically hip skinny cow ice cream sandwiches. Sorry all-natural eating, but butter, like steak, is for special occasions in such immoderate amounts.

Special occasions like The Superbowl. I will admit, part of my looking forward to the big game (which I believe is being played between the Saints and the Colts) is that I have already decreed it an armistice day. Yelena and chicken wings may meet on the field of battle and enjoy one another's company without altering the outcome of the larger confrontation. Also, I am the bringer of Superbowl desserts, and I look forward to sampling my own wares. Immodestly forward.

So I will stop boring you for the time being. January was a good month and since my other idea for what to write about today was people who sing or whistle in the train, I thought this might sound ever so slightly less crazy. Good weekends to all.