Yoga Ninja

As someone who genuinely enjoys exercising, my weight woes come directly from my psychotic relationship with food.  

Indeed, in my history are such incredible feats of unhealthy eating that most would laugh them off as ridiculous hyperbole. Truth is stranger than fiction says the girl who once ate plain butter and pure packs of Equal. 

But the girl with poor habits becomes the mom and, for her kids' sake, healthy, normal human dietary habits must take hold. But old habits die hard my friends. And so often they do not die at all, they just hide... in the pantry.... with the mixed nuts. 

Half marathons have come and gone, sprint triathlons have been completed in respectable fashion and dance classes have been taken and even performed. My love of exercise has not changed; neither has my struggle with food. 

I've tried little tricks before. First, I just wouldn't purchase anything unhealthy, which was great when my kids were only eating out of jars or my breasts. But once they started eating real food, I realized that even semi-healthy things could turn evil in the hands of a food psycho. Saltines were eaten by the sleeve, Cheerios were doused in milk then doused in sugar and shoveled mercilessly into the welcoming abyss. And candy and special treats meant for the kids? Gone. Gone down the gullet of a sadistic little girl still crying, "I can eat anything so long as I exercise!"

Next, I tried to allow myself rewards. "Ok," I reasoned, "don't swarm and engulf everything meant to be for your children, and you can have dessert at night." Only problem with this, of course, is that if there were something 'dessert-worthy' be it cookies, hershey kisses or yogurt covered pretzels... when the 4 o'clock madness hit (moms, you know what I'm talking about) they were devoured. So, my husband had to hide said treats. It worked for  a little while because he's remarkably good at finding odd places to hide food. Yes it worked great... for a while. You can see how this played out can't you?

Think Mommy Dearest looking for her last hidden bottle of booze. Cabinet doors swinging, pots clanging, pupils dilating. A forlorn child enters the scene, "mommy?" "not now honey,"  "but mommy, I..."  "DON'T DISTURB MOMMY!! MOMMY's BUSY!! DARN YOUR FATHER WHERE IS THE CHOCOLATE?" 

Hmmm.... it was time for introspection.  

I couldn't put this responsibility on someone else, it was time for me to look at myself and my issues with food.

Unfortunately I took that notion too literally and came up with the following brilliant idea. 

I put mirrors up in my pantry. 

You see, like I said, I didn't want to put my food issues on my kids, so usually when I was partaking in a binge-like fest, it was while standing in the pantry. How filthy, how horrid how disgusting a habit, I thought. I would never want to look at someone participating in such a degrading activity. Clearly, with a mirror there, I would take one look at myself in the pantry and think, "Gosh, you are better than this, go now beautiful one, live healthily."  I would thank my kind mirror self and take my kids for a walk. Yes, that was the new shiny plan. 

Turns out that my mirror self is a huge psycho bitch. Huge. Think Willem Dafoe's Green Goblin mirror self. 

"Hey mirror self, it's cool, just grabbing some all natural unsalted almonds."

"Oh, that's nice, do they make you feel better?"

"No, it's not about feeling better... I was just needing a little protein."

"Sure, of course. Hey, did you see that those chips are open? May as well have one before you close it up nice and tight."

"Oh, umm yeah, good idea mirror self, just a few chips couldn't hurt."

"Thaaat's right, did that fill the hole that you feel your life has become? did it? if not... there are marshmallows right there to your left... they will provide the fulfillment you look for... fatty. Yes, cry... shove it in, the salt makes the pain go away!"

Right. Green Goblin. Clearly introspection is not my key to happiness. 

So, as the title indicated, I have a new plan. That plan is Yoga Ninja. 

Instead of having my husband hide food... I will have him hide my yoga exercise cards. He'll put them in each and every container of snack food I may be tempted to bust into when my self-control runs low. And once I find a card, I must immediately do the pose I find, killing that time and inclination to shove unwanted crap in my face. And I know I'll actually do it, because its kind of game-based (like finding the hidden food became a sick game!)

Going for Easter bunny ears? Wassaa Yoga Ninja!! Finding Downward Dog.  

Mid morning spoonfuls of ice cream? HIIYA!! how 'bout a Salamba sarvangasana.

Nachos look like a logical lunch? Boom shaka-ninja-laka your ass best get in Setu Bandha Sarvangasana.

I will spend that time and energy doing something so healthy for myself that my entire outlook will change and I will focus on the gift that is my body and all the incredible things it can do. 

or

I will find the card that shows a remarkably fit woman doing an ungodly flexible pose... and while I clumsily do my best to imitate it, I will think about how I just gave a stack of likewise women to my husband to look at and compare me with. Maybe I'll think about how even if I never ate again, my ribs still wouldn't be that small.  

where did you say the marshmallows were again green goblin self?

just one won't hurt... 

HiYah! Whoosh Zing.  Cat-Cow yoga card in my mallows... 

Oh, yes.  this will work.

Bring on bikini season beatches.

thanks for reading, 

-m