Once upon a time, in a land way too near, dinner was a major discussion point in my house. Deb and I would banter about all different kinds of proteins and different ways to prepare them. Fried, baked broiled, grilled, sauced, sauteed, spiced, rubbed. Always a new and different experience. Deb is quite the cook, too, so that didn't hurt. Unfortunately, my relationship with food certainly did keep me at 400+.
In the old days, Deb would call and ask what I wanted for dinner. I might throw something out, maybe not, but we'd pretty quickly come up with a plan. Definitely some potato and a veggie to go along. She'd also cook for 8. Well, 8 normal sized people. Seconds were guaranteed. Leftovers were not.
Today, she still asks what I want for dinner, and I almost never have a preference. Lately, I'm into chicken and fish more than beef and pork, but any derivation of those will do. My indifference has created a bit of stress between us, too, as the task of selecting the meal falls entirely on her shoulders. I am totally grateful for her flexibility in this department as my preferences have changed over the years as I'd go on and off various diets.
We talked about this indifference a couple of weeks ago and realized that my relationship with food has changed so dramatically over the past 14 months that sustenance has become more important than selection. I'm good with just about anything she puts on the table -- it's all good. Seconds are limited to the green of the day, which she still prepares generous volumes of, but if we're having burgers -- It's 4 on the grill, not 6 or 8.
Mike commented a couple of days ago: "It is funny to see how people like us have now replaced food with exercise." It couldn't be more true. When I get out on my bike or go out for a run, I try to think of more exotic places to run or ride. (Well, as exotic as suburbia can get, I guess, like which Starbucks will I stop at along my route for a jolt.) I definitely spend more time thinking about that course that what we should have for dinner. Some nights I feel like I'd rather go out and ride than eat. If it weren't the only family time we spend together most week days, I might actually do it.
I spoke today to a friend that I haven't seen in a couple of years. He asked me if there is anything that I miss from the old diet. Truthfully, no. The killer for me is the smell. Last night Deb cooked some cookies and cake for a meeting that she was going to today and the smell through the house was delicious. That was painful. But. . . I survived and didn't cave. I learned how to deal with goodies at the beach in August as previously detailed.
So the catharsis continues and I'm in a really good place and feel better every day at my chances for long term success.
Deb just called: "What do you want for dinner?" What ever you want, my love.