I've always been a skinny person. In high school and college I always felt too thin, to the point where I was a little self-conscience about it. Just a little. But with my high metabolism, I was always able to eat whatever I wanted and maintained my weight at 98 pounds. Yes, my drivers license weight was never a fabrication throughout my teens and twenties.
And I'm not a big eater. I always had some control over portion sizes, which I happen to believe is one of the main reasons for obesity in America. When I first moved to the city in my mid-twenties, I made it a habit not to buy a lot of junk food. Although ordering pizza on a regular basis did become a big part of my diet.
Then, in late 1997, I decided to move to Italy. I was in between jobs, and had a healthy savings account. What better time to skip town and live in the country where my family hailed from? I would get to know my relatives better, and improve my Italian speaking skills. So I sub-let my Lincoln Park apartment, turned over temporary custody of my two cats to my brother, Chris, and moved to Florence in January to live in an apartment with people from all over the world that had the same adventurous idea I had.
Living in Florence opened up a new lifestyle for me, one that included morning cappucinos, prociutto sandwiches for lunch, and breaded veal for dinner, not to mention an abundance of rich pasta, red wine, and buttery biscotti. Sure, I was walking more in Florence than in Chicago, what with a whole new ancient city to explore. But nevertheless, when I looked in the mirror after the first couple of months, I wondered why I suddenly looked wider. Hmm. Maybe this old antique mirror is a little warped, I thought. When I lay down in bed at night I couldn't figure out what that lumpy thing was that I was sitting on – oh wait, it's my ass. And why are my thighs rubbing together when I walk? All the designer clothes I bought during the multitude of sales in January were suddenly snug in April. What was going on? The metric scale in our apartment was no help. Even though my European roommates tried to explain the formula for translating it in to pounds, drinking multiple glasses of cheap red wine on a daily basis made that task way too challenging.
So I waited until I returned to Chicago after four and a half months of being in Florence and doing what the Florentines did. And when I stepped on the scale, well, let's just say the number I saw was much higher than any bloated menstrual cycle I had ever experienced. Instead of the Freshman 15, I'd gained what I call the Florence 15. But I wasn't horrified. No, I was actually excited. Like Audrey Hepburn in Sabrina, I left Chicago a girl and came back a woman. (I'll save the story about when I went to Nordstrom to buy new bras for another blog. Maybe.)
That sojourn to Italy was more than a decade ago already, and I've more or less maintained the weight I added. Until this winter. I don't know how it was different than winters past, but I was hungrier than normal and indulged a lot more than I usually allowed myself to. And when I stepped on my parents scale Thanksgiving weekend (I don't own a scale, refuse to buy one), I knew it was time to make some changes to my eating habits. After the holidays of course.
That brings me to the real topic of this blog: my #2 resolution. Eat healthier. One of the sub-categories of this resolution is: Eat less meat. I always knew that if I'd ever watch a video on how animal meat is processed that I'd probably become a vegetarian. A few weeks ago, I did watch those videos. And while I'm not ready to give up meat entirely, I am prepared to cut back drastically, especially since I was never a huge meat eater to begin with. I currently have a freezer full of meat, so I still have to get through that. In fact, before I came to Caribou to write this blog, I ate a plate full of penne with Bolognese sauce. But I have steered clear of ordering red meat and pork when I'm out at restaurants, opting instead for chicken or fish. And I started making smoothies for breakfast with lots of greens and fruits.
Please don't get me wrong. I don't think I'm fat. I still fall in the skinny category, at least by Chicago standards. I realize that I'm still blessed with a high metabolism working for me. But I'm pushing 40, and I can't eat like I'm in my twenties anymore (I used to have Twinkies for breakfast in college; Actually they were Twinkies Lite - less fat, less grease, lighter texture, but still chock full of crap - yummy).
So there you have it. Resolution #2 for 2009. Eat healthier and eat less meat. Now I'm off to the grocery store. I need to buy more fruits and veggies for the upcoming week of smoothies.
