Today, my trainer kicked my ass.
(Maybe if I don't mention how I haven't posted in 11 months, no one will notice.)
It was the kind of ass kicking that makes you feel powerful, because despite how hard it was, despite how much I wanted to quit...I didn't. I finished every last burpee, even if I cursed the whole time.
(If I mention it, I'm going to have to explain why I was gone for so long, and I'm not sure I know how to do that.)
Right after I did my last exercise of the day, struggling and shaking, I stood up. I was proud of myself. I am STRONG. Then it happened. I looked in the mirror. I didn't like what I saw. And, immediately, I started beating myself up mentally.
"You're so fat."
"Why can't you stop eating? You're working out so hard and ruining it with your diet."
"You are a failure."
(Hmm. These inner voices might have something to do with why I've been gone so long. I should note this for later.)
At first, I indulged these inner voices. I mentally wallowed in them. Despite all I had just accomplished, I believed them. On my drive home, it hit me.
Fuck those voices. No, really. FUCK THEM. Did those voices just work out their arms so hard they aren't going to be able to wash their hair tomorrow? No. Those voices are chilling in my brain, sipping martinis and watching season four of Breaking Bad five days early because those voices have it easy. All they have to do is hang out in my brain, festering until they see their opportunity to take me down, like Heisenberg tried to take down Tuco.
(Hey, at least I was gone for so long I could use Breaking Bad references in this post. Bright side!)
I'm done with those voices. Just as Heisenberg ultimately wasn't the one who took down Tuco, those voices aren't going to defeat me. Those voices are the things that caused me to gain this weight in the first place. Those voices aren't welcome here anymore.
(Maybe I took the Breaking Bad thing too far. JESSE PINKMAN, CALL ME. Ahem. Anyway.)
I have a broken relationship with food and my body. And I need to fix it, because this broken relationship is affecting everything else in my life. I'm not quite sure how to do it in the long run. Tonight it involved making banana bread. Not just banana bread, but the best damn banana bread I've ever made.
It seems counterintuitive, I know. Making food to solve your issues with food? But creating recipes is fun. Way more fun than assault and battery on your own emotions. So, if you're having a bad day, make this bread. Eat a piece. Don't feel guilty about it.
Tropical Banana Nut Bread
3/4 c. flour
3/4 c. whole wheat flour
3-4 ripe bananas
1 8oz. can crushed pineapple
1/3 c. unsweetened coconut
1/3 c. walnuts
1/2 c. sugar
1/4 c. coconut oil
1 tsp. baking soda
1 tsp. vanilla
1 tsp. cinnamon
1/4 tsp. salt
Preheat oven to 350 degrees.
In a bowl, whisk together flours, baking soda, cinnamon and salt. Set aside.
In mixer, combine bananas, pineapple, coconut oil and sugar until incorporated. Add egg and vanilla. Slowly stir in flour mixture until just combined - don't overmix! Stir in walnuts and coconut.
Pour mixture into greased loaf pan and sprinkle additional nuts on top of loaf, because it's pretty and we like things that are pretty. Bake 45 minutes to an hour, until a tester comes out clean. (Optional: pull loaf out halfway through cooking time and top with shredded coconut for more pretty, pretty garnish.)
Cool in pan on a wire rack. Then EAT IT.
Side note: does anyone else's kitchen look like this when they bake?