Before Taste Bud Training: A typical buffet meal included french fries with fry sauce, STICKY BUNS, rolls with butter, pasta salad, potato salad, crab salad, fried chicken, coconut shrimp with sauce, fruity desserts with frozen yogurt, lemon cookie, oatmeal raisin cookie, snicker doodle, then veggies (fresh and cooked) and meats. I was stuffed.
After Taste Bud Training: Fresh salad greens with carrots, olive oil and a splash of vinegar, green beans, squash, roast beef, roast turkey, more salad, tablespoon of crab salad, a meatball, fresh fruit, then most of one lemon cookie, two bites apple crisp, two french fries with a dab of fry sauce, more salad. I was very satisfied.
In 2011, I learned about the Paleolithic way of eating. I did not follow it exactly because it didn’t make total logical sense to the linear, analytic part of my mind. But I began exploring its ideas and started incorporating some of it. I read The Culprit and the Cure, learning about the pitfalls of our “modern” diet.
In January 2012 I went to a dietician. She analyzed my body fat and determined how many calories I needed each day to drop my BMI to a healthy range. She also gave me some ideas, one of which was increasing fruit and veggie consumption via Green Smoothies.
During this time, My Bratty Taste Buds and I had to have some hard conversations. I had to let them know, gently, that they would not be getting everything they wanted. They were not going get the sugar/fat/salt treats every day. They were going to have to take a rest in the evenings by laying off the crunchy, salty, smooth and sweet tidbits they so loved.
In return, I promised to find some things we both could live with. Surprise of surprises, I found some delicious alternatives to the “modern” treats that MBTBs loved even more! Here are some of them: http://pinterest.com/desaua49/recipes/
And here’s the proof that a *mostly* Paleo diet (more about that later) works wonders. In November 2011, my LDL (bad) cholesterol was 143. Since 1994 when I started checking my cholesterol regularly, my LDLs have never dropped below 109.
Today, April 29, 2012, my LDL is 99.
It’s beeen said before. The older you get, the harder it is to lose weight, to get in shape. In my previous efforts to drop pounds, it was hard at first, but soon I’d get over a hump and it got easier. Not that way so much anymore.
Every ounce has been residing comfortably in my body for decades, aided and abetted by my bratty taste buds. Every ounce wants to stay, make no mistake about this. The longer I let them stay, the more stubborn they become.
There is some good news. I am making progress with my bratty taste buds, but the battles continue. Just as I tame the sugar-monsters, the salty-dogs rise up to cause trouble, sneaking in when I’m not looking. I don’t see them coming. Plus I tend to underestimate their power.
Bratty Taste Buds, give me a break here!
My five pound, some-odd-ounce birth weight did not foreshadow a petite physique. My bratty taste buds started getting me in trouble early on. When I was seven, I got a little brother who needed to be fed. He was kind of like a doll who could sit up in his Baby Tenda and open his mouth for incoming baby food. Or not. If not, I’d eat the spoonful. Soon I could easily eat the jar of Fruit Dessert, sparing him a few slurps along the way. I was fired from feeding duty. No more Fruit Dessert for my bratty taste buds.
My bratty taste buds (MBTBs) started with small victories such as these, but quickly moved on. They demanded, cried, wrung their little tentacles and pitched fits. And I got sucked into their game … just fed ’em whatever they wanted, whenever they wanted it. The junior high school chefs made glorious deep fried cinnamon rolls the size of my head; eating one every morning after breakfast kept MBTBs smiling. After lunch, an individual pecan pie satisfied the brats. After school, I would get off the bus in front of the 7Eleven, head in and blow my allowance on convenience store cuisine; MBTBs wanted that haul before dinner.
My bratty taste buds were verrrry sly. I didn’t even know they were there. They just waited quietly in the wings like a predator waiting for prey: anything with sugar. And fat. And a little salt. Well, they didn’t always just wait. Sometimes they controlled me like a robot, sniffing out prey and moving me into range for the kill. There was no escaping MBTBs in a feeding frenzy. None.
But finally, the day came when the world discovered Twiggy and I discovered my bratty taste buds. I wasn’t exactly fat. But I had heft. Like a fool, I thought I could beat MBTBs into submission easily. Oh, I had no idea what I was in for!
Some people call some children brats. When they want their own way. When they think only of themselves. When they can’t listen to others. When they don’t give a dime about anyone else’s needs. Brats make life difficult, bump up a smooth road, throw gale force winds into a restful mood, irritate and anger friends and enemies alike. They must have control and they will get it through demands, manipulations, pity parties, tears, whining, screaming, tantrums, and at times even (gasp!) flattery!
My taste buds are brats.