Target Practice

Boflex 6 to Thighmaster 1. Thighmaster 1, do you copy?
I hear you. Go ahead.
We've just spotted nachos coming in on your left flank.
Roger that.  I'll out-maneuver them. Banking right.
Negative! We're detecting tequila shots on fast approach!
On my right?? I don't see them!
Stay on course, Thighmaster!
Thighmaster 1 to Boflex 6, I need back-up! I...AAAARRGH!!!...Mayday! Mayday! 2 for 1 Taco Special! Repeat, 2 for 1 Taco Special!
Pull up! Pull up!
I've been hit!!

Happy Hour is a treacherous thing. The work-week has tested every molecule of patience and sanity you claim to be yours and now that it's Friday, you figure you've earned a reward. You rationalize that the energy you've expended over the last 5 days has somehow increased your metabolism and a coupla chips n' dip couldn't possibly hurt.  Salsa? Why that's merely tomatoes, onions, peppers, herbs...veggies are good for you.  Corn chips.  Corn's a vegetable.  Fried in vegetable oil. All good.  Marguerita's are made from tequila which is from agave juice - a fruit! With lime! Vitamin C as far as the eye can see.  And that salted rim merely replenishes the sodium you lost sweating over the Excel sheet from hell.  You'll only have a handful of nachos and one marguerita.  Claim your reward.

Now in my world, that "handful" isn't necessarily my hand size - picture Andre the Giant, his hands the size of Virginia hams and you get the idea.  The one marguerita? Served in a fishbowl on a stem.  My "reward" takes up half the table.  I'll sit there with friends, yapping merrily away in my relief from surviving another week, mindlessly stuffin' and slurpin' and next thing y'know, Happy Hour turns into Happy Hours.  And when I finally stand up...yow, I know I had my knees when I walked in! And why does everyone at my table have a twin? Ole...

Consciousness.  Awareness. Both of these things are in woefully short supply when you are looking at food and drink as something other than what they are.  They are NOT rewards!  Food has been known to...wait for it...sustain life.  And drinks?  Well, in moderation, can enhance life.  When a team wins a championship, or an actor wins an Oscar, they get a reward.  Notice how it's called the Stanley Cup, not the Stanley Cupcake. You'll never hear, "And the Oscar Meyer Wiener goes to..."  Food is wonderful.  A full-bodied Merlot, a miracle.  Give it some respect.

Teach yourself to slooooooow down.  Stopping for a few freakin' seconds to give your brain and tummy time to realize Hey, that's tasty and Hey, something's going in!  Shovelling food into one's maw denies your tongue the pleasure of doing its job - recognizing the tasty.  An alignment of stars and a heady happenstance of chemicals has made much of the stuff from Muddah Nature undeniably yummy, so give it some time.  And some reverence.  Give credit to the carroty carrot, the chickeness of the chicken.  Relish your relish with relish. Mind you, there is a sword, and it's double-edged: don't be (like me) enslaved by the tasty.  I looooove the taste of food so much sometimes, I wanna keep on tasting it, and the only way to do that is keep on eating it (Ahhh, lasagna, we meet again!).  Unless....

I slow down. Pick up fork. Stab food. Insert into hole directly below nose. Chew. A lot. Swallow.  Put the fork down. Count down. 10, 9 ,8...
1.
Repeat.

One's tum will register as satisfied if you've given it the time to, well, digest the idea that it's being fed.  That's when it starts signalling your brain, "Yo, gettin' some good stuff here.  Should be done shortly."  You'll find the need for "Eatin' Pants" drastically diminished.

I go in fits and spurts. Sometimes a bastion of virtue, other times...hoisted by my own damn petard.  A couple of weeks ago, I was treated to a delish din-din and some very fine wines.  Didn't eat myself to poppin', but that wine was sure good.  Super-uncontrollable good.  And 4 bottles betwixt 2 people later...*sigh* I soon became aware that I wasn't conscious (hic!)...

The target? Conscious eating.  All I can do is practice.  I will never play "Goldberg Variations" on the piano, but I may be able to master the scales.

Lili LaLarge