Pickled Beets Are The New Chocolate. Well, Kind Of.

So I said to my gynecologist I said, “What’s up with these four pounds I’ve gained since May?”

“You’re 46,” she said.

“Oh. So it’s nothing I’ve done?”

“Nope. It’s just your metabolism slowing down.”

“But I had such a flat stomach four pounds ago! Now four pounds are just sitting right here!” I said, squishing my fingers into the center of my paper gown.

“You can still have it. Give up that wine and chocolate you like and bump up the exercise and you’ll be back down there in a few months. But ask yourself, do you really want to do that?”

Well, yeah, I kinda do. The chocolate part, anyway. I won’t add more exercise, and I’m not even going there with wine. Not yet, anyway.

I went on a chocolate hiatus for a year and survived so I know I can do it. Chocolate was the one food I stopped eating entirely when I first started losing weight. Not that I had to, per se. Weight Watchers put no restrictions on what foods I ate. But I had to if I was serious about food discipline. I told myself, “Learn portion control with potatoes first, then move on to the hard stuff.” So I gave up chocolate for a year. Funny thing was, when I ate it again, it was like, “Eh, yeah, so?” It was still tasty, certainly. But I’d already lost 100 pounds and nothing, not even chocolate, was going to take that away from me. I was a Jedi Knight of food discipline.

I’m still a Jedi, but I’m not Luke anymore. I’m Yoda. I’m staring down a slowing metabolism, and unless I want to look five months pregnant for the rest of my life and be beholden to Spanx every time I wear a dress, I’ll give up the chocolate once again.

It’s not the taste I’ll miss as much as the ritual and comfort. When I unwrap the foil and pop a bit in my mouth, the taste and texture and the way it gets into the grooves of my teeth before melting is like passing a flower shop and the scent follows you for a few yards and you have a vague and pleasant memory of prom or your wedding or a special garden.

So what could possibly replace chocolate in this ritual? I’m in the process of interviewing food. This week, it’s pickled beets. So far they’re holding their own in the comfort sector and may be called back for a second interview.

You might recall a few weekends ago I made pickled beets. Hard to believe growing up in the upper Midwest that I’d never eaten them until last month. Pickled pigs feet? Of course! Pickled herring? Absolutely! I grew up on both. But I’d not had pickled beets until I saw how much my friend Pam’s little boy loved them when we went out for lunch one day. I tried one and it was love at first bite.

I scoured the internet for recipes and found Alton Brown’s. I’m in love with Alton Brown. So is my husband, but not in that way. Larry’s a biochemist science geek and adores those chemical explanations Alton has for everything while he’s cooking. I just think he’s cute...and the way he's holding that mixer? Booyah! Anyway...

I chose this recipe because Alton roasts the beets in rosemary and uses tarragon vinegar rather than cider or regular vinegar. Sounded interesting, so I made them. I wouldn’t know how they turned out for a week because they have to ferment, but Alton promised, “Patience will be rewarded.” And he was right. The beets are, in a word, awesome.

I’m not suggesting pickled beets taste like chocolate, but they give me a similar level of comfort and satisfaction. Strange, I know, but keep in mind, I was raised on saltine crackers, gjetost cheese and lutefisk. I have eclectically weird taste buds.

What I’m trying to say is: I discovered that the comfort of chocolate had become a rote act when it should be special. I won’t swap the calories of chocolate for the calories of a sugary vegetable. I won’t eat pickled beets every day, or any other comfort substitute to be determined. The deal is, I’m cutting out about 100 calories a day for the sake of my stomach. And for those times when I want a little comfort, I’m looking outside the chocolate box to find suitable alternatives, including non-food things like incense and candles. It might work. It might not. My metabolism may have the final say. But I’m going to try.

(Click here to watch Alton make his pickled beets recipe. Afterwards is a segment in which he talks about latex and then a demo of another beets recipe and an obnoxious but probably oh-so-delish beet greens recipe. Egg yolk, cheese, cereal topping…yeah, he’s evil that way.)

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Changes In Latitudes, Changes In Attitudes

“All lies and jest. Still a man hears what he wants to hear and disregards the rest.” Paul Simon

When I was obese, I didn’t seek out activities that required exertion. The local high school football field is built on the side of a large hill, ergo, I didn’t go to many games. Cook Forest State Park and Allegheny National Forest were beautiful places…to drive through. I even avoided sporting goods stores and bought tennis shoes online just so I wouldn’t be reminded of all the things I couldn’t – but deep down wanted – to do.

Within that mindset, I definitely wouldn’t have noticed a new sign along the road for a North Country Trail trailhead. I wouldn’t have even wondered what the North Country Trail was. Whenever I saw or heard the word “trail” I’d immediately recoil knowing my back, knees and lungs couldn’t handle a hike, even though I longed to see the forest from a place other than my car.

Fast forward five years and a sea of attitude adjustment. Last weekend Larry and I took advantage of a spectacular fall day and decided to go for a walk along the Clarion River in a remote area over the Gravel Lick bridge, located about 13 miles from our house. Along the road was this sign:

Am I, like, the last person in the northern midwest/east to know the North Country Trail existed? It’s a huge national trail extending 4,600 miles from North Dakota to New York, so if you live in North Dakota, Minnesota, Wisconsin, Michigan, Ohio, Pennsylvania or New York, there’s a North Country Trail trailhead in your state. Raise your hand if you knew this and shout “hellya!” if you’ve hiked a part of it.

We parked the car down the hill (some people call it a mountain) and walked up to the trailhead. It wasn’t our intention to hike it, but we were curious about the trail and where it would lead us, so we (literally) hoisted ourselves onto the trail and started our ascent. This is what it looked like along the way:

I’m all over this North Country Trail thing and ready for the next leg, hopefully before the snow falls. I’m even considering planning a long weekend next year around the trail and hiking it for hours at a time. Me. Lynn Haraldson-Bering. The woman who just five years ago sat on the sidelines while others went swimming, played softball, rode their bikes, or hiked. To commit vacation time to physical exertion? That’s about as opposite of my former attitude as I can get.

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The Money-Body Connection

Last Saturday I went online to check my bank statement and was shocked when my balance was MINUS $39.09.

What the…??

Then I saw a debit for bird seed that I thought I had purchased through a different account. My husband I have two joint accounts – one that he uses most and one that I use most. Both debit cards are from the same bank so they look identical, except I’d used a black marker and his name on the card linked to “his” account. “My” debit card goes in the top slot of my wallet and “his” goes in the third. However, I’d mixed them up and when I went to buy bird seed, I pulled the card from the third slot thinking I was using “his” account and paid for my purchase, which – unbeknownst to me – sent “my” account into the red by $3.09. Had I been informed at the point of purchase that my account was going to be in arrears, I’d have realized I was using the wrong account. But because my bank “covers” overdrafts for a tidy fee of $36, my $35 bags of bird seed cost me $71.

My fault, yes. I should have been more aware of the card I was using. But sign me up for supporting legislation in which banks must obtain consent at the point of purchase before “covering” a customer’s overdraft and slapping them with a service fee. To cover my $3.09 mistake, I paid more than 10 times that much.

So THAT’S where all those CEO bonuses are coming from. And here I thought is was just my tax dollars.

I’m mad as hell and I’m not taking it anymore. Mad enough to dedicate myself to becoming an informed consumer of banking products. I’ve already canceled a few credit cards when I received letters informing me that my interest rate was going up (as in DOUBLING), and next week I’m going to interview my bank and find out how I can best protect myself from their loan shark practices. National City executives will have to find some other sucker to pay for their Chateaubriand and Dom Perignon.

I’ve had overdrafts in the past, but this time it’s different. If I had an overdraft in the past, I’d beat myself up, call the bank and beg to have the charges removed, beat myself up a little more and then promise I’d never let it happen again. To my credit, it’s been several years since I’ve been overdrawn because I actually started balancing my checkbook. However, I didn’t fully understand what kind of checking account I had and didn’t realize that the bank would allow a debit transaction to take place even when I didn’t have enough funds in my account. Why? Because I was not fully engaged in my relationship with my money.

For years I was the same way about my relationship with my body. I recognized the similarity to my money dilemma yesterday when I was looking through one of my journals. Here’s what I read: “Journal to lose weight. Maybe that’s how I’ll do it. Force myself to write instead of eat, write down my goals, the food I eat, the exercise I do. I know that will work. Do I have the will to keep it up? Yes. As long as I work to change my attitude.”

Those of you who’ve known me for awhile know that this sounds like something I’d have written when I began this last journey down the scale back in January 2005. I’m always yammering at you about journaling, right? Well guess when I wrote that particular passage? July 22, 1999 – a full 5½ years before I started my last “diet.”

So the idea was there, but the will wasn’t. It was like there was an “overdraft,” but all I was willing to do was promise it wouldn’t happen again. I didn’t sign on then to become an informed consumer of food. Whay? Because I wasn’t ready. It took me five more years to commit fully to myself and my well being. I had to WANT to become informed. I had to WANT to take care of myself and do whatever it took to reach my goals.

Now it’s time to do the same thing with my money. I WANT to become informed. I WANT to take care of my money because, like my body, it’s mine and my responsiblity. No one else’s. I’m finally tired of treating it with so little respect.

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I Guess You Could Call This A Commerical

Like a lot of bloggers, I get asked to review things on my blog like scales or books or weight-loss “products” (which I stay FAR away from…DELETE, bye-bye email). However, other than once reviewing a scale once and a few books, I usually decline these offers. (Of course, some companies don’t ask and just plaster my photos on their website implying that I used colon cleansing or acai berries to lose weight. *sigh* I hate when that happens.)

When I mention products here, it’s (sadly) not because the manufacturer asked me to; it’s because I love or don’t love them and want to tell you why or why not. However, if anyone reading this is the person who hires spokespeople for the following products, I’m your blogger woman. Why? Because I’m cheap. I don’t want your money. Just product. Lots of product. Heck, I know I’m not Michael Jordon or Mia Hamm and wouldn’t make you millions, but I bet I could gain you a few converts and new customers. (Enough to justify a year’s supply of ketchup, Heinz…Just sayin’.)

Here are a few of the companies I want to prostitute myself for support as a spokesperson blogger: Skechers (best shoes ever for my messed up feet so please don’t tell me they’re hand sewn by 5-year-old children or tested on puppies), Heinz No-Salt Added Ketchup (I can have my Bocas AND condiments, too, without crossing my sodium threshold), Tic-Tacs (greatest stress relievers ever), Celestial Seasonings tea (yum), Mossimo Tissue Tees (put me in a padded bra, I could totally model those shirts), Hanes ankle socks (stink-free feet, baby), Furmano’s Pizza Sauce (for when I’m too lazy to make my own), Cabot 75% Reduced Fat Cheddar (melts like buttah…), and Lifetime Fitness (I could use a treadmill), Shirataki Noodles (wait…HungryGirl has that covered…dammmmmit).

*bigbreath*

Arnold’s Sandwich Thins (for making me believe in bread again, plus it makes awesome French toast), Skinny Dippers Organic Spelt Crackers (made in Canada, my second favorite country), whoever makes Trader Joe’s nuts (that’s not a sexual joke) and stevia, RealLime and RealLemon (I have a hard time squeezing juice from fruit due to arthritis), Land ‘O Lakes Light Butter (I grew up in Minnesota!), Pam cooking spray, all of McCormick’s spices, Werther’s Original Hard Candies (my nightly snack), PB2 (goes well with the Arnold’s. And bananas. And HungryGirl’s Sesame Treat, which is cooling in the refrigerator as I type), Mori-Nu Silken Light Tofu, Eden Organic beans (especially the pintos), Silk Light Soy Milk, AND….

Advil LiquiGels.

So now you know (like you asked! LOL) a few of the products that are mainstays in my house.

What are yours? What would you willingly promote without anyone twisting your arm? I’m always looking for new products to make my life tastier and easier, even if they’re not free.

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I am a slug? No, Just Feeling Lazy.

I haven’t worked out since Thursday. Friday was my day off, but Saturday and today I offer no other excuse than I just didn’t feel like it.

Is that bad?

This morning I was up at 5:45 for no apparent reason, and all morning (while playing WordTwist and online spades) I kept thinking, Lynn, for god’s sake, you’re a slug! Get up, girl! Do something! So I went for a walk – OK a very pisspoor walk with no hills and no sweating, but a walk nonetheless – and came home and made pickled beets and hummus. I’ll know in a few days how they turned out. Both have to spend time in the fridge.

Anyway…

Since I didn’t have anything better to do *actuallyIdidbutIdon’tfeellikedoingit* I looked up “slug” on Wikipedia and now I’m really confused. Why do we refer to slovenly, lazy behavior as “being a slug”? Slugs are quite busy little creatures, and they participate in one very distinct act that I’m sure no (sane) human would want to.

I’ll let Wiki ‘splain it.

“Slugs are hermaphrodites, having both female and male reproductive organs. Once a slug has located a mate, they encircle each other and sperm is exchanged through their protruded genitalia. A few days later the slugs lay around 30 eggs into a hole in the ground, or beneath the cover of an object such as a fallen log.

“Apophallation is a commonly seen practice among many slugs. In apophallating species, the penis curls like a cork-screw and during mating often becomes entangled in the mate's genitalia. Apophallation allows the slugs to separate themselves by one or both of the slugs chewing off the other's penis. Once its penis has been removed, the slug is still able to mate using only the female parts of its reproductive system.”

Yeah…’nuf said. I’ll no longer refer to my lazyassself as a slug.

My arms and glutes are going to HATE me tomorrow, but I can already sense the drill sergeant in me waking up. Bring! It! On! I’m ready with my new t-shirts. It was time to replace the Old Navy workhorses with on-sale American Eagle cotton classics because after all my sweaty workouts, a few stains and smells moved into the fabric and never left, no matter how much Secret I put on.

I’ll be slug-less…I mean less LAZY tomorrow. No chewing off body parts going in my household. But there will be a whole lotta lifting going on.

ANNOUNCEMENT....

I want to give a shout out to someone new to blogging but not new to weight loss and maintenance. Shira Miller lost 50 pounds back in 1992 and has kept it off for 17 years. Talk about defying the odds! A writer, Shira is writing a book that focuses on maintenance success stories and is looking for successful maintainers. Here’s what she told me: “I’m looking to interview a diverse group of women who have maintained a 50-pound weight loss or more for at least five years, and who are willing to share their before and after photos. Anyone who is interested can contact me at shira@shiramiller.com, and check out http://lighterperspective.blogspot.com/ for more scoop on my background.”

Send her an email if you’re interested. In the meantime, enjoy her blog. It’s always good to add another maintainer to the posse.

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Good Love Is Like a Good Roasting Pan

Tomorrow (Oct. 3) is my 11-year wedding anniversary. (That's us 3 years ago dancing at Cassie's wedding and back when I had cleavage.) It's hard to believe 11 years have gone by, especially if you know my history. Let’s just say a good man is easy to leave. Well, some of them. My choices haven’t all been stellar.

Until Larry, that is.

Larry’s been with me – literally – through thick and thin. I met Larry in 1992 when I weighed 149. He told me he used to stare at my legs in church when he should have been listening to the sermon. We were just friends then, but he was and still is a guy and I get all goose-pimply when he reminds me, no matter how much time goes by.

Anyway, we started dating in 1996 and I weighed 180. I ate a little more, and by the time we married two years later I weighed 200. No matter, Larry still loved me (and my legs). By 2004, I weighed 300 pounds and wasn’t real fond of myself. Yet Larry was still loving me, even when I didn’t understand why. But in 2005, I trusted his (our) love and used it to get me through the next few years of losing weight and dealing with all the crap I’d shoved under the rug for years.

Now here I am at 120-something and nearly six years from 300. I’m still married to Larry because I figured out that good love is like a good roasting pan. The longer you use it, the better it gets, even if it looks rough around the edges and you can’t get all the gunk out. That gunk adds flavor because it forms a barrier to the newness. New is good, but seasoned is better. Patience is rewarded with the sweetness that comes from longevity. Like an aged roasting pan, a relationship can better handle new ingredients because of all the time spent curing the foundation. The end result is a more seasoned product – one that tastes better than originally imagined and despite any imperfections.

The only way I know to describe all this musically is the second movement of Beethoven’s Piano Sonata No. 8 (Pathetique). So I’ll leave you with this interpretation and bid you a good night. I’m headed to the Gateway Lodge for dinner tomorrow night for a romantic dinner, the place Larry and I spent our first married night together. I’ve decided we’re having the Guinness Chocolate Cheesecake for dessert...among other things.

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A Few Of My Favorite Things

“When the dog bites, when the bee stings, when I’m feeling sad. I simply remember my favorite things and then I don’t feel so bad.”

Just so we’re clear, I’m not feeling particularly bad. It’s just limbo. When I find myself in this neutral free-falling space, I like to focus on happy things. And when I do, Julie Andrews’ voice always pops in my head.

So, now that I have that song lodged in your head, too, I’m going to inject you with even more sugar-crusted sweetness with these photos, the first of my list of favorite things this week:

Claire and Luca (who cut his first two teeth today! Little bugger told no one.) had their first official photo shoot with a professional photographer last week. My friend Pam is a gem. Has a real eye for people and their emotions and gestures. Check out this photo that I had printed in poster size and will frame for my living room. Not just because this is my granddaughter, but because it’s a lovely piece of art.

And of course my daughter loving Luca and vice versa isn't so shabby either.

The scale is not usually one of my favorite things, but on Saturday, it delivered some really good news: I’m not a water-retaining mess anymore! Whoohoo!

Another favorite thing: my bike. Oh what I’ll do to ride my bike, especially this time of year.

Here’s Larry dressed and ready for our bike ride last weekend.

Here’s me.

I’m dressed like I’m hiking the Andes and he’s ready for a romp on Padre Island. It was not even 50 degrees outside! Guess who wasn’t freezing five minutes into our ride? Hint: it wasn’t me.

A few food favorites. Remember how I said I’d cleaned out my homemade recipe books? I discovered the Dijon roasted potatoes recipe I’d totally forgotten about. Since last Saturday (as in 9 days ago, not 2), I’ve made them at least four times. Heaven!

Mix 1 T Dijon mustard, ½ to 1 tsp crushed dried rosemary, ½ to 1 tsp dried oregano, and a few shakes of pepper. Put it in a plastic bag with 6-7 ounces of potato wedges. Shake it all together and put it on a baking sheet sprayed with cooking spray. Spray the potatoes. Cook for 17-18 minutes. Flip. Cook for another 17-18 minutes. Serve with ketchup and/or mustard and or/fat-free sour cream. I do all three.

I’m heading to Pittsburgh tomorrow and will partake in four of my other favorite things: watching the grandkids, seeing my daughter, shopping at Trader Joe’s and Whole Foods, and listening to NPR in the Jeep. I might even stop at Starbucks and get me a vanilla rooibos latte. It’ll be darn cold tomorrow (barely 50 for a high and 40 mph winds). I’m breaking out my favorite sweaters, that’s for darn sure.

And finally, two other recipes that became my new favorite things today.

Sautéed Asparagus

1 pound asparagus, cut into 1 1/2–inch pieces
1 T light butter
2 cloves minced garlic
½ c veggie (or chicken) broth

Sauté asparagus and garlic in butter for about two minutes or until the butter is mostly absorbed. Add the broth, cover and simmer until asparagus is tender. (3 points for the entire dish. 1 point for half.)

Lentil Vegetable Soup

(I apologize for having no clue where this came from. If it’s one of you readers, please let me know so I can publically bow in your presence because this is really good stuff.)

1 large onion, chopped (1 cup)
2 t chili powder
1 t ground cumin
2 (or 5 like I use) cloves garlic, finely chopped
3 cups veggie broth
1 C dried lentils, sorted and rinsed
1 can (14.5 oz) diced tomatoes (or use 2 cups diced fresh tomatoes with skin removed)
1 can (8 oz) tomato sauce
1 can (4.5 oz) chopped green chilies, undrained
1 C frozen corn
1 C sliced carrots
2 C zucchini, cut in quarters

In Dutch oven sprayed with non-stick spray, sauté onion, garlic, cumin, and chili powder for about a minute. Add tomato sauce and cook until onion is tender, about 2 minutes. Add everything else and simmer for 30-45 minutes (depending on if you use fresh or canned tomatoes. Fresh require a few more minutes.)

Makes 6 2-cup servings. 180 calories, 1 gm fat, 8 gm fiber, 11 gm protein per serving. (3 points)

Good stuff. No lie.

And finally, one of my very favorite veggies is beets. And last week, Claire tried them and now loves them, too.

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