Food, food, glorious food

I'm going to come right out and say it. I LOVE FOOD.  LOVE IT.  I'm not one of those "eat to live" people.  I'm not necessarily a "live to eat" person either.  But I love food.  I love healthy, nutritious food and I love super rich, fatty, clog your arteries feel guilty afterwards food.  Eating is an awesome experience.  I cherish food.  We're all clear on how I feel about food, right?  But sometimes I can go a whole day without eating.  I forget.  What type of person who loves food, can forget it?  But I do.

The best way to describe my eating habits is indiscriminate.  Now that I'm over 40 though, this indiscriminate eating habit of mine is not working for me.  Oh, it's fine in your teens and early 20s...but not so much now.

I'm a fairly active person.  I don't go to the gym.  I don't walk daily, in fact I'm a bit of a couch potato from about 6:30 onwards most weeknights.  But from the moment I get up, til the moment I sit down and watch the umpteenth re-run of Friends that I STILL find funny (Oh Chandler marry me, I love you still) I pretty much lay on the couch, drink cups of tea and occasionally scrounge whatever sweet stuff I can find in my pantry during the commercial breaks.

That's pretty hard for me because I don't buy rubbish food.  In fact I order my food online so I don't get tempted at the supermarket chocolate aisle, or the chip aisle or the fridges that stock the soft, gooey cheese that I like.  So I end up eating tablespoons of milo, nutella or lemon spread on the occasions the sweet cravings get the better of me.

On the weekends I have my children, Saturday night is junk food night.  They get to choose so it's generally pizza or MacDonalds, eaten with much gusto and fighting over who's getting that extra chicken nugget.  Yes I take food out of their mouths.  Mother. Of. The. Year.  I've even occasionally hidden treats and opened them after they went to bed.  Because I deserve it.  You know, being a single parent and all.  Actually just for breathing.

But now has come the time to take stock, put down the fairy bread and stop eating cheezels off my fingers (unless it's my birthday - then all bets are off).

So I've done something I swore I'd never do, because I don't believe in "dieting" and I don't believe a person's life focus should be how small their bum is in a pair of jeans.  But I signed up for a fitness program.  I'm not interested in becoming super skinny.  I'm never going to be that girl.  Even when I was at my fittest, I still had an arse that had people quoting Sir Mixalot at me.  I have curves.  I like my curves.  I'm not that fond of the jelly centre that's covering the curves at the moment, nor am I fond of the way my jeans seem to cut into me by about 3:30pm every day.  It's an uncomfortable feeling.

Now I'm cool with being outside my comfort zone, but I don't think worrying about your muffin top is what people are referring to when they use that saying, so it's time do something about it.  And I know me. I'm a team player and I'm competitive so to sign up to something where others are involved seems worth a shot to me.

So this blog is putting it out there. Holding me accountable.  I've got a friend on the outside and a work colleague on the inside to help keep me honest.  Oh I'm 100% positive I'll slip up and sneak a cheezel, and a few scotches, but life is still for living.  But I want to be sure I'm around to live it. So I'm going to give this thing a go.

Let's hope I'm not too sore to blog about the progress.  Let's hope I'm whiny and funny about the places I never knew I had to hurt.  Please God, let ME find it funny at least.