Changing my relationship with food

Food is fuel.

I wanted to get that out of the way, because it's something I need to tell myself every single day. My relationship with food has been less a sensible partnership and more a torrid love affair, and changing that relationship has been a long, difficult road.

Name a food vice and I've probably had it. I over-eat my favorite foods to the point of making myself sick. I eat when bored. I eat when emotional. I give into cravings. I'm that person who'll leave the house at 2am to get a candy bar at the grocery store, and after buying it, will eat it shamefaced in the car and hate myself ten minutes later.

At least, I was that person.

When starting a fitness program, I can't change everything at once. I start with exercise, and I let myself eat normally for the first few weeks while I'm gearing up. That's when I notice the first major change in myself: I stop craving garbage. I firmly believe that the body often craves what it needs, and when I'm hitting the gym, the only thing I can think about eating afterward is a big piece of chicken. And let me tell you, I give in to every one of those good cravings. I need to capitalize on them, reward myself for them.

Once I'm finding myself in a groove with going to the gym and having some good cravings, I take steps to change the rest of my diet. I start replacing my calorie-laden beverages with water. I replace my mid-morning candy bar with a granola bar. I eat an apple an hour before going to the gym not because I want to, but because I should.

An interesting thing happens once you make these changes. You start craving these foods. The body starts expecting them. So even though I don't like granola bars, I don't particularly like water, and apples have never been at the top of my snack list, I start to look forward to them.

There are days when the food-obsessed version of me comes out again. Some days, I'll grab a hot fudge sundae along with my plain grilled chicken wrap. I'll have a big slice of cake (or two) when I feel I need it. But like with everything else, I need to be honest with myself. Why am I eating this? Will I feel better for having eaten it? Am I acting reasonably right now?

And always, when I let myself indulge, I still count my calories. Just because I'm cheating doesn't mean I give up, and my storied history with food has shown me that I can still make progress on the days I exceed my desired calorie count. If I eat 2200 calories on Wednesday (Pizza Night, hello!) all is not lost. I still have six other days of the week to make a difference.

The important thing for me to remember is that a slice of cake doesn't undo all the good I've done since I started down this path. It may be a stumbling block, but if there's one thing I've learned it's that stumbling doesn't mean falling.

I'll never be cured of my food obsessions. It's a constant battle, this relationship. But every day I can log my calories with a smile on my face is a major accomplishment, something to be proud of.