And thanks to Mr. Columbus, I’ll be sporting the latest in 3 day weekends this year. A look that never goes out of style.
Today I wanted to pull an Usher, and tell you these are my confessions…
When healthy eating is your job, your namesake, your identity even, it can come with a sense of guilt, betrayal, and secrecy. Comments such as,
The DIETITIAN is eating cake?!
Oh that’s right, you don’t eat desserts.
I know, it’s not healthy. Just don’t look at my plate.
I get it. There’s no harm or hurt behind those words. It’s what we’ve been told. But I’m here to tell you that being a dietitian isn’t always green juice and dark chocolate. Here’s some of the things I’m setting the record straight on, that go against the profile of what it means to be an RD. These are my confessions…of a dietitian.
I Hate Quinoa.
I try and try again, but I still don’t see what all the hoopla is about. Sometimes I wonder if people just say they love quinoa simply because it’s healthy, or this is just another quirk I can add to my “reasons why I’m the weirdest” list.
No matter what sauce, salad, or pizza-esque form it takes, I still just feel like I’m eating a pile of bird seed. Don’t get me wrong, I won’t pass up trying your killer quinoa salad, or turn my nose up at your bird seed chili, but given the choice between quinoa and virtually any grainular food, I’d choose the latter.
Except brown rice. I hate that stuff too. I like my rice Aladdin style. JASMINE.
I Don’t Buy Organic.
Quick! Sound the food police! Weeeee-Woo! Weeee-Woo!
Tisk Tisk, shame on me right? I did experiment with the cost of eating organic before, and know it’s probably a tangible task if I really wanted to. But I don’t. And I’m cheap.
And I don’t really buy into it all. Who’s to say that organic tomato you bought at the grocery store didn’t tumble and turn with a box of conventional rubes by some unknowing 16 year old produce clerk? Or that $1.69 organic Gala didn’t travel thousands of miles from Washington, while a local, in season non-certified organic McIntosh is literally falling into your backyard?
No, I don’t like that our general food supply is indeed a giant question mark, but paying double the amount for another questionably “healthier” food doesn’t sit well with me either. Instead, I try and follow these simple practices:
-Buy locally, and in season as much as possible.
I’d much rather see my money go to Farmer Jill (because girls can farm too) who can’t afford the costs of becoming certified organic, but lives in the next town over than a giant food company slapping on an organic label and robbing you (and the farmers) blind.
-Buy organic meats and eggs as much as possible.
I do try and buy organic meats and eggs when my budget allows, simply because I know too much, and my conscience tells me too. I think the cold shoulder on how most conventional meat is produced needs to be lifted, and we see what really is behind the price tag and cellophane wrappers.
-Focus on the dirty dozen for buy organic fruits/vegetables.
If you can afford it, and you’re feeling especially crunchy, buying fruits and veggies from the dirty dozen list organically is the next step. I tend to focus on the leafy greens the most if I can’t get them locally.
I Eat Mindlessly.
There’s those days when I find myself wandering into the kitchen, spoon in hand, ready to dip x amount of foods into a jar of peanut butter while standing in front of an open fridge, while I’m not even truly hungry. It happens.
Or a hand finds it’s way to the bottom crinkles of a once bountiful tortilla chip bag mid-laugh at the sixth episode of Parks & Rec. That happens too.
While I’ve been trying to be good about eating without distractions, when you live alone…without a kitchen table, the TV becomes a loyal dinner partner, ready to share a laugh, and not judge how quickly you inhaled that once full plate of food. Sometimes I’m hungry for company or entertainment, rather than food. Sure, they’re not proud moments, but they happen. I’m human. And life goes on.
I Don’t Practice Moderation.
Sure, I shared my days/nights/full on weeks of drinking during college, I find the days of couch comatose and questionable midnight Domino’s runs all the less appealing now. That doesn’t mean I don’t still whip and nae nae it ever now and then.
Whether it’s glasses of sangria, or scoops of ice cream, there’s times when the joy, laughter, and happiness that come along for the ride are worth breaking the moderation rule for.
Plus, have you ever seen what a serving size of wine or ice cream really is?! Laughable.
I Don’t Workout Everyday.
If my crazed and confused look didn’t give it away, I like to sweat. And be active. I’m an endorphin junkie.
While most days include some form of sweat-inducing activities, there are the days when the most physical exertion I get is lifting 100+ pounds…of me out of bed and on to the couch.
These are my emotionally active days, not “rest” days. Filled with activities that do my soul good, since my body tends to get most of the attention. Coming to embrace these days, rather than fixate on the calories I’m not burning has been liberating, and something we should not feel ashamed of. Be proud of those non-showered-same clothes I slept in-having frozen pancakes for dinner days. Just invite me to the next one.
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Make it a great day!
Any thing you want to confess to?
Do you have a 3 day weekend? Plans?