I'm Practicing "Mindful Eating" Now
It's not as hard as I thought it was going to be
Mindful eating relies on mindfulness, a form of meditation. Mindful eating is about developing awareness of your experiences, physical cues, and feelings about food. (Healthline)
I work from home a lot. With that comes the temptation to eat too much during the course of the day. So I’m trying to be more Zen, and more “mindful” and conscious of what I’m eating.
I’ve actually lost some weight during the Pandemic because we don’t go out to eat much at all. But my clothes are starting to fit strangely. Particularly my T-shirts, around the mid-section (belly). I’m trying to figure out what’s going on.
So yesterday, I kept notes.
I woke up in the morning and brewed the coffee. I typically brew enough to make about eight (8) cups. My wife has two (2), so I drink the other six (6), starting from about 8:00 am to 10:00 am.
I should have the yogurt I bought the other day. The mixed berry one that Tracy told me not to buy, because everyone is sick of it, and wants new flavors.
I’ll eat one of those Chobanis. Since nobody else wants it. With the Peanut Butter granola. I’ll put a bunch of that crap on top.
I have a yogurt with Granola and a couple of cups of coffee.
I bought all those eggs. And that bag of Kraft shredded mixed cheeses. I should make an omelet.
I go into the kitchen and put the frying pan on the stove. I put a quarter stick of butter in the pan to melt. I mix three eggs in a bowl and pour the mix into the frying pan. Then I throw a third of the bag of mixed cheese on top. I toast three pieces of Dave’s Killer Whole Wheat Bread and use another quarter stick of butter on those suckers.
I pour a big glass of milk and go watch part of “First Take” on ESPN. I have two (2) more cups of coffee.
Last week was National Hot Dog Day. We didn’t even celebrate. I’ve got the Sabrett’s hot dogs. They go bad fast if you don’t eat them.
“Tracy, d’ya think Son #1 wants hot dogs?” I ask.
“I don’t know. Probably. He’s in his remote Honors Geometry class until noon,” Tracy says, annoyed, working on some huge house project.
I better make a bunch of those hot dogs so they don’t go bad, I think to myself.
“I’m gonna make a bunch of those hot dogs. So they don’t go bad.” I say out loud.
“Whatever,” says Tracy.
“Last week there was National Hot Dog day. We missed it. You want one?” I ask.
“No! You can’t eat hot dogs every single day. Well, I guess YOU can,” says Tracy. I hear her mutter “Buffoon” under her breath.
I make six hot dogs in buns. Two (2) for me, and four (4) for Son #1, and Son #2. I use Grey Poupon mustard, relish, and I eat half a bag of Ruffles Family Size potato chips. I have to throw out an old jar of Dill pickles.
I just finished a bunch of work.
I deserve a treat.
I eat three (3) Pepperidge Farm Milano Cookies, with a glass of milk (non-fat).
I watch part of the old version of “Cape Fear” on TCM.
Robert Mitchum is a badass.
I just finished some more work. I go to the refrigerator.
I tear open the Prosciutto. I eat two slivers, and go back to the man cave and wash it down with a Cherry Coke (mini) from my refrigerator that looks like a Marshall Stack Amplifier.
I got enough work done today. I’m gonna go sit in the jacuzzi.
|'Hello It's Me," - Todd Rundgren|
I load up my backpack that has a cooler in the bottom with three or four Snapples, and some ice packs.
I drink three Snapples. Two (2) Diet Tropa-A-Rockas and one (1) Lemon.
Uh-oh. I can’t read the trivia under the Snapple caps without reading glasses anymore.
I gotta cook that Ribeye Steak I bought yesterday. So it doesn’t go bad, I think to myself.
I get out of the jacuzzi and go to the kitchen. Using a large BBQ fork, I stab some holes in a potato and put it in the oven to bake for two hours at 400 degrees.
At 7:25 pm I get out of the jacuzzi again and turn on the grill in the backyard, to cook the steak.
I eat a grilled Ribeye Steak slathered with olive oil and Montreal Steak seasoning, mushrooms sautéed with a half stick of butter, and a baked potato with butter, sour cream, and chives.
A little dessert never hurt anyone, I think to myself.
I eat three Brownie Bites, with a glass of milk.
I have bottled water. A mini one.
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