Scarred for life – Yes. Maybe. No. YES!

You hear me say this every time, but let me repeat myself all over again. I love food is a sheer understatement, I am OBSESSED with it. 

I can eat just about anything and everything I can lay my eyes on. My organs comply as needed (the human body is magical that way), while my brain continues to put forward a strong case every time, only to fail miserably. Having a high metabolic rate doesn’t help either. But this obsession is in the far past now, something changed recently.

With this change, the brain is elated because she is finally being included in the team as a valued member. However, the other’s – heart, stomach, and eyes are not in their best place. My human body is at peace, though, so that is something I guess. 

What changed?

I have been re-introduced to what is called the “metabolic age.”

I knew this term already but maintained a safe distance from it. From time to time, the brain contradicted herself, under pressure from the others – ‘Well! Ignorance is bliss.’ ‘You can run, but you can’t hide.’ And, I swooped that under the rug.

In a recent, full medical health check-up organized by the company I work at, one of the tests was to check for the ‘metabolic age’ or simply put, the body age.

It started with me, being super excited that day for the full health check-up (like always). I find medical tests very intriguing, don’t ask me why. Anyways, I let the curiosity overtake the situation and got THE test done.

Let us just say, nearly two months later, I still have nightmares, and I have repeated this term to those around me uncountable amount of times, in most cases just to console my wretched soul and refrain from eating something that was offered to me. What can I say, food has a way of finding me.

So, every time I see any food, my brain goes into an auto-pilot mode and throws the others out of the driver’s seat. No! I am not starving myself. (I am making sure the brain understands the team-spirit here and stays grounded). I still eat but started with ‘portion control.’ Yes, portion control is a thing. Go figure.

While I do keep myself physically fit with walks and yoga sessions (like before), the portion control makes the end-of-day calorie count more readable. Unless, of course, I spend half a day just working out to get to the ‘readable’ count, but that does not seem quite practical.

Here I am now, cutting down on outside food, honoring portion control, staying away from events that deal with food & drinks. The latter seems like an extreme step, and I am not ready for it as yet. I do keep the cheat days open but have cut them down to ones a week, as opposed to three times a week.

Basically, I am a different human now, and sometimes I just can’t believe it is still me.

Wait, let me rephrase that.

Basically, I am a different human now, and sometimes I shock myself beyond belief and find it hard to recognize myself. Change takes time, I suppose.

Me on a cheat day – Photo reference.

PS: I am never taking that test ever again. Pheww!

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