I've heard that recognizing you have a problem is the first step to recovery. I know that's the rule for Alcoholics Anonymous, anyway. I think the same can go for food too, and I'm not just talking about overeating in general.
I think everyone has the one thing that, once they start devouring, they just can't stop. You know what I'm talking about - Oreos, peanut butter and sometimes Oreos with peanut butter.
My over-indulgence doesn't happen to be a processed cookie, but rather something really disgusting: meat. I went through a huge meat phase in late elementary/early middle school that could put any Atkins dieter to shame. I would eat meat all the time, and I would coax my mom to go outside and start the grill every night.
In the spirit of Spring Break having just ended, I'm going to tell a little story about how I faced the facts and started my rehabilitation process toward a life without meat.
One summer night, when I was in seventh grade, my family was having a barbecue full of the traditional carnivorous classicszz: hamburgers, hot dogs, ribs, steaks. You name it, it was there.
My family started to eat and all was going well. All of the sudden, my dog Monty ran out the door and down the street. He always came back, but I offered to get him since it was dark out and we didn't want to lose him.
So anyway, my sister, almost too intelligently, told me that I should bring a piece of steak along to lure Monty back safely. I thought this idea was stupid, but I figured, what the hell, I'll bring a chunk of meat with me for some moral support.
I set out on my journey down my dimly lit street, admiring the summer breeze and the smell of the filet in the Ziploc bag in my hand.
For some reason I thought it would be a good idea to hum a song to myself in order to keep my spirits up. I started singing Hungry Like the Wolf,"" a great '80s tune thatI recommend for situations such as these.
However, the lyrics of the song started to get my gastric juices going, and I was faced with a massive moral dilemma. Do I stand around and hope my dog comes running toward me a la ""Homeward Bound"" (a.k.a the saddest movie ever)? Or, do I indulge my desires, quench my proverbial thirst and go for the bone?
Judging by the nature of this piece, I'm sure you can guess what I did. I couldn't wait any longer. I was miles (actually a few blocks) away from my house and I was starving, even though I had just eaten. I'm not proud of it, but I swear that that piece of steak was one of the best I've ever had.
I think that the breakthrough, ""aha moment,"" as Oprah would say, happened about two minutes after consumption while on the walk back home. It was then that I took that first step and recognized that I had a serious problem.
Ever since that day, I have cut back drastically on my meat intake, vegetarian style, because really, there is no way to quit besides going cold turkey.
Spring Break has now come and gone, and the week of expected excess and hedonistic urges sadly has come to an end. Going through all of the pictures on Facebook, ones that we probably don't remember taking, I have come to recognize that we have a problem.
We could cut ourselves off and take a break from the going-out every night routine, but let's be honest; we go to Wisconsin. I'll see you all at the Ram's Head Friday night.
If you ever sneak some catnip when your pantry is bare, e-mail Ariel at akraut@wisc.edu.
