According to Buddists, the Hunger is Good

I’ve been blessed with high metabolism. For most of the years of my life, I’ve been able to eat what I want without counting calories. Bear in mind, “what I want” might be a smaller portion than other people need to eat to feel full. I’m the queen of asking for “to go” containers when I eat out–often, half of what I’m served at a restaurant is plenty for me. Until recently, my philosophy for daily food intake was “eat when you’re hungry, stop when you’re full.” I had cravings for a favorite dish every once in a while, but more often relied on meals as merely a way of alleviating occasional hunger pangs that hit before lunch time or after I got home from work. Friends of mine would become skeptical when I’d tell them I had forgotten to eat lunch or dinner that particular day.

But now I’ve hit middle age. I haven’t gained significant weight this last year, so much as what I have gained is now being stored at dead center. Buttoning my pants is no longer as easy as it had been for the last twenty or so years. And while I’m still at the recommended weight for people my height, I’d just prefer not to have to buy larger sizes to be able to sit down comfortably AND keep my pants snapped. So I decided to shed a few pounds, nothing too serious. My goal was to lose four pounds, but I’d settle for three if that was the best I could do without going to too much trouble. Easy peasy. Right? Wrong.

That’s just when the trouble started. As soon as I decided to cut down on snacks, to eat more vegetables and stay away from having dessert every night, I started thinking about eating as a very important part of the day, instead of just a way to address hunger. How much longer before I could reasonably eat lunch? Is 10:00 am too early, as long as no one’s looking? What was the name of that cute cupcake place on Olive? (Answer: Pastries of Denmark.) Shouldn’t I observe the final days of summer with one last trip to Ted Drew’s? For purely nostalgic reasons? I started to crave Indian takeout dinners, and would have to talk myself out of them. In the midst of this new push-me-pull-me of resolving to eat better first thing in the morning followed by wanting to indulge in some of my favorite flavors by mid-afternoon, a beloved Chicago sandwich place opened its doors right here in St. Louis. Potbelly’s! (11615 Olive Blvd, for those interested. And the official name is Potbelly Sandwich Shop.)

Not only does Potbelly’s have melt-in-your-mouth subs, they also have salt and vinegar chips (I rarely have a weakness for chips, but these make such a great side to their signature subs) and fantastic oversized oatmeal cookies with chocolate chips baked in. I’m tempted to go buy one right now!

The upside of this new-to-me inner struggle is I have a better amount of sympathy for my younger sister Megan, a self-proclaimed “foody” who recently reminisced in detail a dessert we’d shared on vacation, exactly one year earlier! Another upside is I’m finally a little less annoyed now by commercials promising easy ways to lose weight or surefire equipment for toning that tummy. Instead I perk up, because I now qualify as their target audience. It’s not a welcome struggle, but at least I’ve become one the gang.

Another humbling realization I’ve had this year: it’s easy to plan to grow old gracefully, until it actually starts happening to you!