Conversations with the Sunday Pot Roast

Weekends are the hardest. I am fortunate that I have a husband and 17 year old son at home who are quite capable of fending for themselves at meal time. During the week, I don't cook. We three are always running, usually in different directions. But when the weekend arrives, we find ourselves at home. Especially Sundays, when we venture out for church but generally spend the remainder of the day together, at home.

So I cook.

For example, this weekend I made a big pot of Taco Soup on Friday night, so Rick and Derek would have something hot and hearty to eat for a few days when they searched the fridge for something to eat. My son Derek is a bean pole at 6'1" and 140 pounds. Rick is 6' and about 175 pounds. I'm 5'4" and have more than 100 pounds to lose. Both of them can eat me under the table! On Sunday, I made a pot roast. This was the third pot roast I made in the month that I have not been eating real food.

Why so much pot roast?

The answer is kind of funny. BEFORE this Optifit diet, I was grocery shopping at Costco and bought a pack of three small pot roasts, and put them in the freezer. I have not spent much time at the grocery store since. So when Sunday rolled around I was able to just grab a pot roast from the freezer, add some onion soup mix, potatoes and carrots and 3 hours later, voila! Dinner is served!

Smelling that roast roasting all afternoon is torture! I REALLY miss eating. I like eating. It's fun. It's pleasurable. It's a habit. It tastes delicious and pleases the senses. It has nothing to do with staying alive! I just plain miss the activity and pleasure of eating.

When the pot roast is ready to eat, they guys head to the kitchen, serve themselves on the kitchen counter and eat together. I will usually announce with just a wee bit of self-pity, "I know, I think I'll blend up a nutritious shake for dinner!" But then, at some point, I will end up in the kitchen, cleaning up and putting the leftover pot roast away.

The first time was the worst.

There was one tiny piece of roast stuck to the bottom of the pan. I stared at it for a minute and the dialogue began. One little piece. Not even a whole bite. How many calories could there possibly be in that little half-bite? Zero carbs. DANG it looked so good, delicious, succulent. I have been completely faithful to my meal plan. The conversation in my mind with that fragment of pot roast was racing fast and furious as I stared it down. Really now, seriously, what possible difference would it make to the outcome, to my weekly weight loss tally, to eat that one tiny bite of delicious pot roast that was pleading with me to pop it into my mouth?


The answer, really, is none.

That little bite would have made no measurable, significant difference in my weekly calorie count or nutritional intake. But that wasn't the point. The point is, I wasn't supposed to eat it. I was supposed to be able to make a choice, to be in control of what I ate, and when, and how much. To plan what I eat, and eat what I plan.

THAT'S the point.

By not popping that bite into my mouth, I achieved a significant victory. One of many to come. And it is becoming more clear to me that the value of eating the meal replacements is really to remove food from our lives temporarily. This way, we are able to clearly see and experience all the cues and triggers that normally would lead us to pop food in our mouths. THAT has been startlingly eye-opening.

And every Sunday, I have the same conversation with the pot roast. Except for the Sunday I had a similar conversation with a turkey meat loaf. I really was poised to take a bite, just one bite, because I had given myself permission to have just one bite. Just then Rick walked by. I asked him if he thought really, it would make any difference if I had just ONE LITTLE BITE of that nutritious turkey meat loaf. Without pause he said, "That's the same thing an alcoholic says to the bottle of vodka...."

He was right, of course.

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Conversations with the Sunday Pot Roast