Sunday, July 13, 2008

Middle of the Road

Tomorrow I start yet another attempt to eat healthy, exercise, and maybe lose a few pounds. Actually, at this point weight loss is secondary to just feeling less run down and crappy. I am not really following any plan (fuck you, Weight Watchers. Points? My ass. I work out for an hour and all I get is a slice of bread? Bite me.), instead am simply going to try and eat more whole grains, stay away from refined sugars and trans fats, and do at least 30 minutes of exercise a day, even if it's just following Sally as she sniffs her way through the neighborhood. In preparation for my new diet I have thrown away pretty much anything in the house that could derail me, including my beloved cook and eat flour tortillas, which I eat raw (hey, don't knock it until you've tried it). As I write this I am drinking the last of the last bottle of wine in my house, so unless I want to drink the corn liquor my sister gave me as a joke I will be radically cutting down on the sauce as well. Except of course, in moderation. How I hate that word.

I mean, really, when you think about it what is the good of being moderate? Who ever tells their child to be "moderate" pursuing goals? If my boss told me my work was "moderate" I would probably start looking for a new job. And yet, we are supposed to embrace moderation when it comes to anything that is even remotely fun. Paying taxes? Go all the way! Staying up and dancing naked on the couch with a beer bong? Only in moderation.

I think what people really mean when they say "moderate" is "boring." After all, who are the kings of moderation? The Swiss. And what do we know about the Swiss? They make fine, moderately priced, box like furniture. Oh, and they like meatballs. And cheese. But, the cheese must have holes in it, because eating a whole piece of cheese would be going over the top. It's moderation built right into the food.

And think about the noun form of moderation -- moderator. That's the person who doesn't get involved in a debate, but just makes sure the people actually trying to take action don't kill each other. Can you tell me who won the Nixon/Kennedy debate? Of course. Can you tell me who moderated it? Probably not without help from Google. Moderators are like referees who aren't good at sports. So, why should they be role models?

That's why I say go big or go home, especially in the things you are only supposed to do in "moderation." After all, do you really want to have just one five ounce glass of wine? Or a half cup of ice cream? NO! if you love those things, prove your love! Eat the whole carton! Drink the whole bottle! Climb every mountain! Swim every sea! Don't stop until you are well past moderation and reaching dangerously overextended! It's the only way the world will ever be changed, and it's how I plan to live my life.

Well, at least it's the way I plan to live my life once I quit this new health kick. Most likely Wednesday...

2 comments:

Amanda said...

Good luck.

Corn liquor? How was I not part of that loving sibling hillbilly swap?

Tara said...

Um, Ikea and meatballs are Swedish. Props where props are due - if it weren't for that and the fish they'd have nothin'. And the Swiss aren't always moderate - they hung on to that stolen Nazi money like nobody's business.

P.S. thanks for reminding me to cancel my Weight Watchers membership. I hate those bastards.