How I Stopped Eating Office Junk Food

About a month ago, I set out to have a low-sugar week. For breakfast, I traded in my sweetened yogurt for homemade oatmeal; I turned down evening treats and just said no to the delicious office sweets. My only slip up was that Friday night, where I had some meringues that one of our friends brought over.

I plan to continue limiting my sugar intake - cutting it out at work and limiting it at home. I don’t think sugar is evil or want to say goodbye to it, no doubt in a drawn-out farewell scene where I cry and the sugar strokes my cheek before sadly turning away and going off to war, but cutting it out for just a week really pinpointed the weaknesses in my food plans. I was doing pretty well, I was making progress, but not as quickly as I could have.

I’ve realized that (part of) the answer is in those little treats that I would end up eating during the day - a little chocolate from the candy bowl, a quarter of a bagel from the office breakfast, a couple of bites of something offered by a generous co-worker... They take a great day and turn it into an okay one, or they leave me with only 300 calories for dinner, so I end up going over my intended calorie allotment in order to eat a reasonable dinner. Not ideal.

Since that week, I have not had a single office treat. Not when there were chocolate croissants at breakfast, not when a colleague brought in cookies from the best place in town, still warm, not when the candy bowl was overflowing with mini Three Musketeers. There has never been a month-long period where I didn’t eat any office food - probably not even a single week where I didn’t partake in some way. (And I wonder why I gained twenty-five pounds after I started working.) 

That's... a tough one.

Before now it never seriously occurred to me that cutting out office food - all office food - was a possibility. I mean, what if there was a really good cake? What about balancing treats with eating healthy? Turns out that was bullshit - I'm not cutting out all sugar, just what's at work. Sometimes it's easier to always say no. I'm taking those automatic "no, thanks" answers to a new super-level, office edition, available in stores right now.

This is one of those things where I’m so proud I want to tell people on the subway about my accomplishment, and high school students are surprisingly good listeners.

And those dumb cliches about how "It gets easier" and "You don't even want it after a while" are completely true. That first week of my personal low-sugar party, I was heating up my oatmeal in the office kitchen and someone had put the leftovers from a “welcome to the company” breakfast in there - a plate or two of pastries, wafting up their intoxicating buttery scent. Almost every other time, even the weeks I lose weight and generally consider to be successful, I’ve had a bite or even a quarter of a muffin. But this time I ignored them until the microwave beeped. And it wasn’t as hard as I thought it would be. It was just something I do, and I didn’t even feel like I missed out on anything. 

It’s easier to go off previous momentum, to think “I never have those. I can, but they’re not worth it so I don’t bother” than agonize over whether I should spend one or two hundred calories on it. It turns out it’s easier to just never have it than to decide if I should.

The lesson I’ve taken from this is that it’s not worth it 99.9% of the time. Anything offered at work, I can either buy or make. So if I wouldn’t buy it or make it, why should I eat it just because it’s free and in front of me? Once an awesome colleague stood in line for three hours to bring us cronuts, those super-trendy donut/croissant hybrids, only sold at one location and limited to two per customer. That’s the only time it’s ever been worth it for me to have any of the sweets at work, because then I got to try something unique that I’ll most likely never have again. But catered chocolate croissants? Bagels? Even, I dare say it, fresh-made apple cider donuts? Still not worth it. I love that my coworkers and my company can be so generous, and it definitely contributes to our generally pleasant work environment, but I no longer want to participate.

Nobody is going to notice or care, just like they haven’t so far. If I really, really, want something, then I need to want it enough to at least go out and buy it. “Free” and “being offered to me” are not reasons to eat it.

Weigh-In After Holidays & What All Those Jewish Holidays Are

Sunday was the end of another holiday period, this time at my parents’ house. It did not go well. There will be another holiday/the tail end of this holiday starting in two days.

To back up slightly, I guess it’s time to explain what all of these vague holidays are to which I’m constantly referring. Feel free to skip the next two paragraphs, obviously. So I’m Jewish, and we have numerous holidays in general, but three that fall close together in the fall. We recently celebrated the Jewish New Year, followed ten days later by a day of repentance called Yom Kippur, in which we believe we are judged for our deeds, good and bad throughout the year. Despite the solemnity, it’s actually considered a happy holy day, one in which we get to “start over,” really reflect on our actions the past year, and think of what to do better in the future.

Currently, we are celebrating the holiday of Sukkot (Soo-kote), an eight-day festivity that culminates with a separate but related holiday in which we celebrate when God gave the Jews the Bible after having led them out of Egypt. Sukkot is two-fold: it is a celebration of the harvest, and also when we remember our ancestors wandering the desert for forty years and only living in temporary huts. Why were we wandering? The excellent joke answer is that the Jews wandered for so long because Moses wouldn’t stop and ask for some damn directions, but the religious answer is that the Jewish people had make a huge boo-boo right after they got the Bible and were being punished. The holiday is eight days, on which additional restrictions (no electricity, no work, no driving/trains/planes, no writing) are in place during the first two and last two days. 

We just had the first two days, now we’re in the middle where it’s business as usual with a few traditions thrown in, and starting on Wednesday night, we’ll celebrate the rest of holiday and have the restrictions again.

What do we do during this time? Pray, eat, sleep, play board games, take walks, take naps, have long discussions, read, learn, unplug from life. It’s actually a great deal, except when you’re me and trying so hard to stay healthy.

So that’s that. If you skipped the above, basically it’s like having Thanksgiving in your house - lots of food, family, and friends. But for two meals a day, for three days. And you can’t go to the gym, write down/track your food intake, or buy anything.

I just ended one of those periods, and it didn’t go how I’d hoped. I had been planning to leave work early on Wednesday, but it got unexpectedly stressful, I left later than I intended, and didn’t get to break for lunch (or at all). Then my train home got delayed, so I got out late, stressed, hungry, and a little hormonal. Not a good combination or start to the holiday. So I overindulged on Wednesday, ending the day annoyed at myself but trying to look ahead to the rest of the holiday. 

But I didn’t have a plan, couldn’t track, hadn’t had the chance to exercise on Wednesday - I don’t even know what happened, but I’m pretty sure I gained. There were some times when I picked and chose alright, like having bread at a meal, but no rice or potatoes, or just splitting a cookie with J. But mostly I got overwhelmed by the sheer amount of food in front of me. My family is pretty healthy, and desserts were saved for weekends and special occasions. But this WAS the special occasion, and I went in knowing that there would be a huge amount of food available, all the time, with no thought as to how I might avoid partaking too much.

Over the Jewish New Year, which we celebrated with J’s family in Michigan, I spent so much time and energy worrying about food, and after all that I only managed to essentially maintain my weight. I didn’t want to repeat that this time, but rejecting that plan and not coming up with a new plan left me with zero plans. If I had had a plan, I might have eaten it.

There is, of course, a giant ‘but’ to all this. A lovely ‘but’ with a bright side and a silver lining. And that is, it was only a couple of days. Even if I do equally as crappy during the next (and final!) days of holy this week, it’s still only a few days. I won’t gain back twenty pounds over a week, even though I might gain one or two. Therefore, as long as I can immediately and completely forgive myself from any overindulging over these holidays, and get right back to tracking, exercising, and healthy eating, I’ll be fine.

Yesterday I went to my Zumba class, tracked my food, and today was equally successful. And I’ll do my best over the holiday (come up with a new plan?) - but no matter what, next Sunday I will get back into the groove again, accept whatever gain, maintain, or lose I get, and keep working. I will get to the 170s.

As of yesterday, I am at 182.5 - up, but not as badly as I thought it would be.

I'll Do It When I'm Skinny

Our firm’s annual summer outing was on Monday. They hold it in the same place every year: a nice Country Club upstate. Most employees bring their families and there’s a golf game, tennis tournament, swimming, and lots of food. As I mentioned on Sunday, it’s a pretty low-key day and if you’re not good at golf or tennis, the main thing to do is hang out by the pool.

Last year, we went swimming and I wore a bathing suit that I had just purchased the day before.  And shorts. Someday I will be comfortable enough to walk around in completely bare legs, but definitely not right now. The reason for the last minute purchase was that I hadn't gone swimming in several years and didn't have any bathing suits. Not even ones that were too small. Just none.

J wanted to go swimming again this year, since it’s the main activity available. I didn't want to, but the only reason against it I could come up with was “I’m uncomfortable walking around in a bathing suit.” He pointed out, correctly, that this was a lame reason, especially since I had walked around in my runway-ready bathing suit and shorts ensemble last year at only ten pounds lighter.

So we went. We swam. I got a weird sunburn on a corner of my shoulder where I missed a spot with the sunscreen. We had a great time hanging out with my coworkers, and I even did pretty okay on the eating front. I’m glad I didn't let my weight stop me from doing something I ultimately enjoyed.

There have been other occasions when I didn't do something because I was too self-conscious about my weight. It's one of the silly reasons I didn't work out or wear bright summer patterns for a long time. Or try skydiving, or para-sailing when I had the opportunity. But screw that. Fine, I’m fat. But I’m wearing a one-piece and shorts. Nobody would really notice or care about my weight unless I was walking around in a string bikini or fishing for compliments about how hot I am.

This issue has manifested itself in other ways, like when I realized that I constantly wear my hair up in a random ponytail or bun to work because I can't bother to wash it and style it a little, or don't try enough to shop for clothes that look nice and are flattering on my size 14-16 body.

I can’t allow my weight to stop me when I know that being self-conscious of it is the only reason I’m not doing something. So when it’s relevant, I ask myself, would I be doing this if I was thinner, comfortable with my body? If the answer is yes, then the next step is to do it. So I go swimming.

I'm getting better at allowing myself to put best self forward, or at least my "I give a shit" self forward, even on non-special occasion days, to make an effort, to go swimming, and not let the silly little voice that tells me not to bother because I can't be at my best self at this weight, so what's the point? That little voice is stupid, and I'm not listening.

The "If" Word and Weight Loss

“If I can lose 40 pounds by next year, I would be really proud of that huge weight loss and would buy a pretty and flattering dress that I never could have worn at my higher weight.” 

“If I lose this weight, I’m going to buy a sexy bathing suit and wear it with confidence.”

“If I don’t have too much stress from switching jobs, I will start going to the gym three times a week.”

These are all things I’ve heard other people say fairly frequently, in Weight Watchers meetings, weight loss forums, or just average conversations about dieting. I'm sure I've said them myself. There’s nothing inherently horrible about these statements, of course, but I think there’s something to be said for the constant use of “if."

Similarly, I’ve found myself speaking with qualifiers when referring to weight loss, using words like "if," "hopefully," "maybe," or "perhaps." But I’ve realized that this is, in in a minor but real way, negatively influencing the attitudes I have about my own ability to accomplish things. Why if? All of this weight stuff is in my control; whether I weigh fifty pounds less or ten pounds more next year, it will all have been my doing.

My old Plan B.

Saying “if” (and similar words) can work as a safety net or a form of self-deprecation. 

Sometimes it stems from simple doubt. When I’m uncertain about or don’t trust my own chances of success, when the idea of a fifty-pound loss feels more like a fantasy than a possibility, I’m not going to speak confidently about my plans. I’ll say things like, “I hope that next year I’ll have lost 50 pounds,” or, “if this works, I’ll make sure to keep on the program.” I won’t say, “when I lose this weight,” because deep down I am not sure it will really happen.

Using qualifiers like “if” is also a safety net because if I don’t lose the forty pounds, or whatever the goal is, then I didn’t really fail because I never really said I could do it anyway. The "I never care about it anyway" defense, introduced in school playgrounds everywhere. The more heart I put into something, the more disappointing the failure. 

Thus I’ll avoid that whole hypothetical scenario by never really believing I can do it in the first place, and expressing that doubt through statements that begin with “if” and, “I wish” or, “I hope.” So nobody needs to remember my grand declarations about working out at 5 am each day or only eating sweets on Thursdays, because there won’t be any.

It also works as self-deprecation when speaking to others. I don’t want to sound full of myself, like I’m so sure of my success that I’m buying smaller clothes or planning a post-goal weight vacation. Weight loss is a huge and difficult accomplishment, but it’s something at which most people fail. Therefore, I say “if” to avoid sounding conceited - like someone who is so sure they can succeed where most don't.

But it’s so unnecessary. There’s nothing wrong with speaking confidently about something that, while difficult, is completely attainable and utterly in my control. I’m probably not going to start filling a “goal weight” closet, but I can do this small thing; I can be positive and try to get into a better mindset, one in which I’m confident about my capability.

A study or two has shown that optimism can actually help with weight loss - people who set higher weight loss goals and declared higher confidence in those goals lost more weight. The researchers hypothesized that the attitude helped people to see the weight loss as attainable, even inevitable.

From now on, for things like this - things completely possible and totally in my control - I will start saying “when.” If (when?) I slip up on this, feel free to let me know. But it’s a habit I want to form.

When I get to goal, when I weigh less than 150, when I lose all the weight, when I'm in maintenance mode, when, when, when. Why not? The only thing stopping me is me.