Thursday, May 2, 2013

French Toast Fight!


I’ll be brutally honest. Today has been a bit of a struggle for me. I’ve been good all week about keeping my time on the bike to an hour a day, only doing the 15-minute Insanity abs workout, with some walking (like, around the block with the dog or just at lunchtime at work) and, of course, biking to work and finals. And I haven’t really changed much about what I eat, beyond actually having real food instead of just vegetables.

My parents keep telling me I’m doing great. And I feel better. I have the energy to bike across campus or walk up the stairs. I can concentrate better. It’s the mental aspect that I struggle with. Not that I feel fat, exactly. But it hasn’t even been a week yet, and already my calves look thicker and less muscular. I’ve lost most of my abs. I can feel a layer of fat around my middle.

I know logically that this is impossible. I’ve gained about four pounds (I peeked at the scale), but honestly the number actually doesn’t bother me that much. I know that’s mostly water weight. Now that I’m not exercising as much, I’m actually hydrated. Repair takes four grams of water for each gram of actual body tissue (or something similar). After all my Googling, I was ready for a much bigger initial jump than I’ve seen.

And I know that even four real pounds and one week of less exercise wouldn’t be enough to make a visible difference. But I can still see it. And I know that it’s all in my head, and that that’s the real battle here. Yes, I can gain the weight back. I can drag my feet about it or I can embrace it wholeheartedly. I can do it for my friends and family, because I don’t want to make them suffer. But just because my body is healthy, doesn’t mean the war is won. The reason eating disorders take years to recover from is the mental aspect, and now I understand why. I already feel detached from that girl last Friday who wanted so desperately to have a normal life.

But I’m not going to forget her. Because she is me. These voices I’m hearing now...they’re not. They are ED talking, whispering in my ear, enticing, trying to guilt-trip me back into that abusive relationship. I try not to listen, but ED knows my weak places. It knows how to hit where it hurts. I just have to learn to tune it out.

But just because I feel...flabby (for lack of a better word) doesn’t mean I haven’t been hungry! And since I discovered Egg Beaters two days ago, I’ve been lacking variety because they are literally addicting. I bought them for a recipe, cooked one up in a frying pan, and have been craving them ever since. For some reason, they just taste better than actual eggs. In a sandwich, a wrap, with a bit of pico de gallo and salt on top.... I don’t care, just give me Egg Beaters!

Tonight I decided to do something different with the Egg Beaters, since there’s not much variety in egg sandwiches vs. eggs wrapped up in a tortilla. So, I made French toast!


I have NEVER made French toast before. Honestly, I thought it was some long and complicated process and that it had to be unhealthy (I spend too much time looking at restaurants’ nutrition information).


But it’s actually really simple! All I did was mix 1/4 tsp of cinnamon and a packet of Truvia with one Egg Beater, soak two slices of bread in it, and slap it on a skillet...and this time I remembered the non-stick cooking spray! (Long story.)


Maybe I shouldn’t have been surprised when it worked, but I was. And it was pretty darn good! I’m not sure why, but even with those big flecks of cinnamon, I couldn’t really taste it. But it wasn’t far off from the French toast I got at Denny’s a while ago. And there is something cozy about eating breakfast at dinnertime. Just one more weapon in my arsenal for this fight--and I’m going to need them all!
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