Oh, my. I weighed myself this morning, as I do every other day, and it looks like I packed on five pounds. Dubious, as my eating habits really haven’t changed, I picked up the scale and shook it. I was certain that there was a “glitch,” somewhere. These digital scales mess up all the time, don’t you know.
Maybe it’s the battery. That little round silver thing.
Or, maybe. I actually packed on five pounds.
Much like the “Freshman-15,” now, getting fat during a pandemic has its own moniker: The “Quarantine-15.”
Oh, boy. Like we need this, too.
As I wracked my brain in an attempt to find out where I was going wrong, I realized that perhaps my diet had changed, just a smidge.
When I was employed, I followed a strict routine of drinking tons of green tea and eating two apples a day with peanut butter. Apples are delicious and filling, with tons of fiber and antioxidants, and peanut butter—well, who doesn’t love that? Plus, the protein content is satiating.
After working out at a gym during lunch, I’d return to my cube and eat hard-boiled eggs or a salad. Snacks were pistachios and that was it. No crackers, chips, or anything of that nature. During the past two years, after being laid-off, that routine has been systematically flushed down the toilet.
I have a new routine for this “new normal.” (Geez, I’m starting to hate that phrase.) And, if I am, to be honest with myself, and you, I have to say that it’s not nearly as healthy. Workouts are still a daily commitment, at home, but my diet has definitely altered. Gone are the daily apples with crunchy peanut butter. In its place: Junk.
In the morning, I start out fairly well. I load up my coffee with collagen and/or protein powder, almond milk creamer, a dash of cinnamon and cayenne pepper (yes!), a teaspoon of MCT Oil Powder, and froth it all up.
This crazy brew keeps me full and energized until the early afternoon. I’m always writing then, so I don’t stop to eat.
Around 3 pm, when my brain starts to shut down, it’s TV time. I either binge-watch “Killing Eve,” or anything with Chef Gordan Ramsay, my not-so-secret crush. Hey, my hubby loves him, too. While I watch, I snack on “authentic wonton strips,” which are fried, tortilla strips, also fried and fried jalapeno peppers! I mix all of these up in a jar and go to town.
One more thing: The “bar” opens earlier every day. I don’t need to be told that this in and of itself, is concerning.
I know: What the hell is wrong with me?
I wish I could tell you. A hodgepodge of things, I suppose. The virus, our being quarantined, the constant sanitizing of everything, and the pervasive feeling of “Why get up today?” Also, the weather in Chicagoland has been dismal as hell. Wet and cold, with barely a semblance of spring.
Because I worked too hard to get into decent shape, I’m on a mission to turn things around. I’m writing this in the hope that my friends here will keep me accountable.
Today, the weather is crappy as always but I’m going to force myself out for a walk, with my headphones on and my music at the ready. And when it’s TV time, I’m going to return to my beloved apples and peanut butter because I don’t need one more stressor like the number going up on a scale that, no matter how hard I shake it or move it, or how frequently I change the battery–isn’t broken.
Stay well, everybody, and thanks for reading.