Am I Thin Yet?

In my last post I mentioned that I was contemplating a move to Venus so I could lose weight through gravity and not dieting. The idea seemed plausible at the time but I’ve since decided to stay here on earth after a litany of problems prevented me from reaching outer space.

With a Venus relocation out of the mix, and with the early retirement of my once-rabid metabolism, I’ve been forced to diet for the first time in my life. Being new to the world of culinary restraint, I’m not used to, well, culinary restraint. That said, the wake up call I received when I weighed in at a depressing 257.4 pounds has led to some drastic changes.

Since that day, I’ve replaced my 4-can-a-day soda habit with water and skim milk (which is basically cloudy water). I’ve also eliminated chicken wings, fried foods, red meat, ice cream, and pizza from my diet, and embraced (albeit unenthusiastically) fruit, vegetables, low-fat foods, vegetarian dishes, and smaller portions.

I even home-baked some fat-free blueberry bread and it was surprisingly awesome. Anyone who has dieted can tell you that some of the best foods you can eat are those that taste like you’re cheating even though you’re doing the opposite.

New to dieting and not fully understanding how long it takes to see a transformation, I find myself constantly checking the mirror and stepping on the scale hoping to see that I had completely undone twenty years of bad habits in just twelve days. While this hasn’t yet happened, I did manage to lose six pounds since starting, so it’s at least been somewhat motivating to keep doing what I’m doing.

The problem is Christmas.

It’s a notoriously palette-pleasing holiday and my wife makes some dangerously good Christmas treats. Alas, I shall trudge forward and stay focused on my goal of December 20th…the date of my life insurance physical. But as soon as that nurse leaves our driveway, I’ll relax my regimen a bit. While I’m certain many of the dietary changes I made will stay permanent, those that don’t will at least be enjoyed in moderation from here on out.

The only time I cheated on my diet was when we went to pick out our Christmas tree. This cute little old lady was in the back of her shoppe making some fudge and selling Christmas cookies by the pound. There was a sign over the cookies that read, “Just like Grandma used to make!”

I scoffed at the thought, because my grandma made tins upon tins of the best Christmas cookies ever baked. My favorite was a cookie she called, a “snowball”. It was a round shortbread-type cookie with crushed nuts inside and a healthy dusting of powdered sugar on top. I’ve seen imitators throughout the years but nothing has ever come close to my grandma’s version.

20+ years had passed since I enjoyed one, yet lo and behold, sitting amongst her trays of cookies was a treat that looked exactly like my late grandmother’s “Snowball” cookie. I told her that it was time to put that Grandma sign to the test. If this cookie did indeed taste just like my grandma used to make, I’d buy all that were left.

One bite and I had a euphoric flashback to a childhood Christmas. Much like Anton Ego when he bit into the rat’s Ratatouille in the movie of the same name. Not to get all Hallmarkish on you but the surge of memories was emotional. It brought back the sight of 20 stockings lined along the fireplace, the endless colorful packages under the tree, the laughter, the meticulous decorations, and the aroma that lingered from days and days of baking Christmas cookies.

I told her to wrap up all she had, but to my dismay, she only had five left. Right then and there I pre-ordered two pounds of these babies, called back later to add another pound to the order, and circled December 22nd in bright red marker. It’s almost more important than Christmas, for December 22nd is Pick-up Day.

If I can drop my weight to 237 by next Monday then I’ll have definitely earned some celebratory cookie eating. And if I can’t? Then I’ll have definitely earned some therapeutic cookie eating.

Either way, I’ll be easy to find. If you spot a guy clutching a cookie tin while wearing Christmas jammies covered in powdered sugar, it’s me.

I have no shame when it comes to delicious nostalgia.