Today I weighed, to see what progress I’ve made on my new calorie-counting (and supposedly weight-loss) plan.

In the past, we’ve owned bathroom scales that were a bit mercurial — you could experience significant weight loss (or gain) in the matter of minutes, as the scale readings varied wildly. In fact, several years ago Kathy and I were dieting, and the scale told us both we gained. Being mature, financially responsible adults, we tossed that scale in the garbage and rushed out to find a more ‘reliable’ device.

This morning, after at least four attempts, I could only squeeze a 0.2 pound loss out of that cursed scale! Maybe there’s something wrong with the batteries?

It could be worse, they could be throwing me in the trash like these tomato plants.

I was pretty disappointed, since I’ve been counting my calories like a miser, these past two weeks. I estimate I’m eating at least a thousand calories a day less than I was eating before, and so I hoped for a 2-pound loss. No such luck.

I came downstairs and loudly bemoaned my lot to anyone who would listen. Kathy was walking out the door, but tried to console me:

“I’ve got to go to my meeting, but when I come back, I’ll encourage you,” she promised, sweetly.

Petulantly, I whined, “I don’t need to be encouraged, I’m quitting!”

There was much giggling among my children, especially Joshua. I guess they know that I’m more bark than bite — sometimes a fella just likes to complain. They used to say this when I was in the Army: “If soldiers aren’t complaining, they’re not happy.” Joshua rushed off to add that quote to his Tome of Ridiculous Sayings, in which I figure prominently.

“Let me just write that down, Daddy.”

It seems that, before I started this plan, my metabolism was going all-out, like a roaring furnace. I picture sweaty, soot-begrimed workmen in a gloomy factory, shouting over the sound of the flames and conveyor belts:

“Hey, Joe! I just got word from Corporate that there’s another load of high-calorie junk food coming down! Doesn’t this guy ever stop eating?”

“I dunno, Frank — he must think he’s an Olympic Athlete or something. Maybe the boys down in Waste Products could pick up the slack?”

“Those weenies? They’ll start whining about bowel obstruction or something — they don’t care about us, here, and they don’t care about the Company. I guess we better run three shifts again — do you think Sam can take the night shift?”

“I dunno Joe, those guys on the third shift are pretty rough. Hey, Bob, fire up furnace 14, will ya, and tell the lads everyone works an extra two hours, unpaid overtime!”

Now that I’m moderating my caloric consumption, the metabolic workers have apparently unionized, laid off a third of the work force, or taken some of the furnaces off-line for long-needed maintenance. I’m eating so many less calories, but not losing weight — it is enough to make a guy discouraged.

In the face of this lack of weight loss, I decided to revisit the calorie calculations. Sure enough, it seems the calories that a man of my size and lifestyle would burn is quite a bit below the 3000 I had originally estimated. I tweaked a few formulas and ended up with a more conservative ‘maintenance’ calorie allotment of around 2550, not 3000. This suggests that I need to eat no more than 2050 calories a day to lose a pound a week.

No wonder I haven’t seen any weight loss!

Ooof. Goodbye ice cream, goodbye cheese sticks, goodbye to that extra tortilla. Hello, hunger.

Happily, Kathy has developed several foods that enjoy a high calorie-to-satisfaction return on investment:

• The fruity-oat bran pancake — 618 calories
  Yes, that’s a lot of calories, but this hearty 1.2 pound cake with complex grains keeps me going from 6 am ’til noon, with nary a hunger pang.
• Tomato-barley stew with sausage — 476 calories
  Two cups of stew, with tasty sausage morsels — sweet and filling (and made with home-grown tomatoes!)
• The hunger-panic vegetable pancake — 200 calories
  Never before has pureed cauliflower or broccoli tasted so good. Held together with an egg and some fresh Parmesan cheese, and broiled on Kathy’s cool grill, this pancake has enough substance to take the edge off any hunger.
• The metabolic — 165 calories of frozen blueberry goodness

David is fond of nearly all those recipes.

Maybe I’ll post the recipes for these if I get a chance. I find all four to be very satisfying, and if I stick to these, they take care of breakfast and lunch entirely and leave a lot of room for other foods for supper, totaling 1459 calories.

I am reminded that at least 10 people promised to pray for me, many on the assurance that I would pray for them. Well, I have been — I’ve prayed every day for each of you (except, as advertised, for one ‘off’ day a week). Please pray that I would have the courage to reduce my calorie consumption further, and that I would see some success in weight loss.

If the metabolic foremen lay off another round of workers, I’m going to have to take drastic action.

Tim

For most of my life, I’ve had ‘issues’ with my weight and body shape. When I was 10 or 11, I could (and did) eat as much as I liked, and never gained a pound. It probably helped that I ran, jumped, skipped or bounded wherever I needed to go. Some time around my twelfth birthday, this golden age came to an end, and I began to accrue fat and pounds.

When I joined the Army as a flabby 198-pound twenty-year-old, the kindly folks at Fort Leonard Wood helped me to embark on a crash diet (they called it ‘Basic Training’). Burning upwards of 6000 calories a day while eating whatever morsels I could snatch in 60-second meals, helped me to a loss of 35 pounds in a matter of twelve weeks.

Can I afford the calories today, for a cup of Caramel Caribou?

During my three-year enlistment, I managed to stay on the right side of the weight and fitness limits, so (in spite of a knee injury) I was still reasonably fit and under 190 lbs. when I returned to college. By the time I graduated from college, I had bulked up to about 215 pounds, some of it muscle from a regimen of weight lifting and occasional jogging. Life as a programmer doesn’t sustain much muscle; even so, I’ve somehow managed to stay in the 225-245 range for the past 16 years.

As long as I can remember, I’ve believed I was ‘pudgy’. Oh, I knew in my head that this was a delusion, but I still believed it. I carefully suck in my stomach and flex whenever I stand in front of a mirror, raising my eyebrows to make my face look thinner. I avoid looking at my profile as reflected in store windows or bathroom mirrors. I wear tall, baggy shirts so they don’t become un-tucked and reveal my belly.

Even so, I know that pretty much any nutritionist or physician would consult the charts for a man of my age and height and weight and conclude, “Dude, your body-mass index is 33 — you’re past ‘overweight‘ — you’re obese!”

I don’t talk to those kind of nutritionists or physicians, especially not those who would call me ‘Dude’. They’re usually young and skinny, anyway.

Not my actual body mass index chart. I’m 5′ 11″, and, um, weigh quite a bit more than 157 pounds.

Last Monday evening, I ate a big supper, and followed it up with a slice of cherry pie, a huge chocolate-chip cookie, about a half-pound of pistachios, and several large handfuls of M&M’s. As I lay reading, on my side in bed, I felt sick and bloated. Suddenly, I noticed something large, pushing down on the bed. It was as though one of my children had sat on the bed beside me.

In a sickening rush of comprehension, I realized: it was my belly.

Even now, six days later, it is unpleasant to talk about this subject. All these years, I had convinced myself that I was merely ‘plump’ or ‘pudgy’, but now I could no longer avoid the ugly truth: I am fat.

Not my actual belly. Sorry for those of you now requiring therapy.

I mulled it over in my mind all day on Tuesday, while Kathy and I drove back from Oregon. I skipped breakfast that day to alleviate the immediate feeling of being over-stuffed, but I wasn’t able to shake the memory of my belly, almost pregnant in its shape. By Tuesday night, a determination to make a change crystallized in my head, forged in the fires of self-revulsion and (as I later discovered), Kathy’s prayers. It turns out that Kathy has been praying for the last couple of weeks (years?), for me to take seriously my responsibility to look after my physical health.

As it happens, I have an in-house expert consultant, well-experienced in self-discipline and nutrition. Kathy helped me to resurrect my profile on Fit Day and lent me her considerable expertise in low-calorie and low-fat food selection and measurement. I spent the first day eating ‘normally’, but recording each calorie, to see if FitDay.com’s estimate of my caloric consumption was accurate. It was a bit chilling to realize that I routinely consume between 3500 and 4000 calories a day, when eating without restraint or accountability.

Kathy has kept her 60+ pound weight loss off for almost four years, now.

On Thursday I set my goal: I’m seeking to lose a pound a week, and to get down to my late-college weight of 210 pounds, from my current weight of 238 pounds. To accomplish this by late May, I’ll need to ensure that my caloric consumption is at least 500 calories less, each day, than what I burn. So far, so good; the nice folks at Fit Day can help with all that.

My average consumption vs. what they think I burn

The main problem is this: how will I keep recording and limiting my caloric consumption each day, over the long haul? This is certainly not the first time I have dieted, and yet for more than 16 years I’ve made no significant change to my weight, except for a briefly successful flirtation with Kathy’s Maniacal Eating Plan (the KMEP), or the time I dropped 20 pounds on the Bronchitis Diet.

I really don’t want to add another chapter to my self-deprecating autobiography, The Many Failures of Tim the Quitter, 1965 - 20??; already my publisher is hinting that a work of this size should best be broken up into a trilogy. What will make this effort different? Where can I, as a lifelong follower of Jesus Christ, get the kind of power I would need to resist temptation of the flesh and to succeed at a pursuit involving one of the fruit (fruits?) of the Spirit, self-control?

Think, think, think (I do my Winnie-the-Pooh impression). A light bulb goes on: the Holy Spirit indwells me for just this kind of purpose!

Um … wait just a minute. The Holy Spirit has been indwelling me for all these years, and yet I have repeatedly failed. There must be something else, some way to activate the work of the Holy Spirit in my life, some way to ensure that I attempt things not in my own strength, but in the strength of the Holy Spirit.

Think, think, think.

Another light bulb goes on: Prayer!

And so we come to the reason for this blog, apart from sickening self-revelation: I need some of you to pray for me on a regular, ongoing, long-term basis. Please pray that I will be faithful and disciplined in decreasing my caloric intake and increasing my activity. Pray that I will not grow weary of exercising self-control, and that I can establish some habits in this area that will translate to a long-term maintenance of a lower weight. Pray that I will not become discouraged, and find some reason to quit.

I have a group of people for whom I pray every* day, using 4×6 cards to remind me of specific concerns. If you will commit to praying for me at least 4 times a week, I’ll add you to my deck o’ prayer cards, and I’ll pray for you at least six times a week. And if you’re already on one of my cards, then perhaps you owe me.

As Kathy and I do with our budgeting, I’ll be reporting on my progress from time to time on this blog. You can also track my caloric intake and weight loss (assuming there is some) on my public FitDay profile.

I was able to lose 4 pounds right away, by the happy expedient of weighing with my clothes off and before breakfast.

Comments are welcome, but prayer, interceding on my behalf, is very welcome. I already know much more about weight loss and healthy living than I am putting to use; that said, please feel free to share your wisdom on this topic.

Tim

*every = at least six days a week

One of my favorite lines in Charles Dickens’ A Christmas Carol is spoken by Ebenezer Scrooge, confiding his avaricious glee to his clerk, Bob Cratchit:

Christmas is a very busy time for us, Mr. Cratchit. People preparing feasts, giving parties, spending the mortgage money on frivolities. One might say that December is the foreclosure season. ‘Harvest time’ for the money-lenders.

(I’m not sure if that quote appears in the original — it appears in one version of the movie, among at least five that I own. I’m too lazy to check the book.)

Michael Caine makes a very believable Scrooge.

The way Scrooge rubs his hands together as he rolls the R’s in the word ‘Harvest’, sends a chill down my spine, as I contemplate the harvest he is about to reap at the hands of the three spirits.

Today I had to admit that the tomato growing season is pretty much over. We’ve had a couple of gentle frosts, and the tomatoes are rotting on the vine. When it rains, the tomatoes split and get moldy, and even the ones that don’t spoil have lost that sweet, sun-warmed flavor of August.

“Now what do we do with all these tomatoes?” I asked Kathy, rather petulantly. Even though many of the vines are yellowed and have dropped most of their fruit, there still remain hundreds of tomatoes on the 50-odd plants I tended so happily through the summer months.

The kids were having a war in the backyard with various friends, so I drafted some of ‘em as migrant workers.

I paused a moment to reflect on the change in my attitude about these little red globes. I remember when each of them was like a precious child, long awaited and enjoyed with great glee. Now, when half the crop falls neglected to the ground, I’m tired of tomatoes, and haven’t been out to pick any for a week. It has been several days since I even ate a tomato.

Maybe next Spring I’ll exercise some moderation in my planting?

Either that, or get one of these bad boys to help me process my crop …

Kathy Googled™ for the answer, and found that we could save tomatoes for use in winter stews. “You”ll freeze ‘em,” she assured me, rather breezily.

“Sounds good,” I agreed. “What do we do, chop ‘em in half and toss ‘em in a freezer bag?”

Kathy read further down the page and laughed. “No, they all say you have to skin the tomatoes, first.”

I blanched. Literally.

(OK, that was a dumb cooking pun. Blanching is apparently what happens when you expose a fruit or vegetable to boiling water for a short time. Not, in this context, what happens when all the blood runs out of your face in terror.)

Fifteen minutes’ harvest.

I checked it out — sure enough, every source we could find agreed that you had to remove the skins. So I got out a big pot and boiled some water. Beside it, I prepared a bowl of ice water. Then I put a dozen tomatoes in the boiling water for 45 seconds or so, and then plopped ‘em into the ice water. As advertised, the skins came right off, along with a fair bit of the tomato.

Kathy nearly suffered an infarction. “I can’t believe you’re actually doing some of the work,” she chortled.

It was a gooey job, and I quit after bagging only two quart bags of tomatoes. At this rate, I’ll have all the tomatoes ready for freezing by the time next year’s crop is on the vine.

“I’m leaving the rest of the tomato processing as an exercise for the student,” I told Kathy, waving my hand grandly at the remaining trays of tomatoes, as I scampered out of the kitchen.

Now we just need to find a tomato student. Any takers?

Tim
Project 366, Day 299

My mother-in-law is a baker extraordinaire. She worked for several years as a caterer’s assistant and is talented and creative. Her cakes are stunning confectionery creations.

I am not that baker.

One of Tim’s favorite desserts is his mom’s Black Forest cake. I’m not particularly fond of cherries myself so it isn’t a recipe I have ever tried. This, however, not being my birthday I decided to make Tim a special treat. I began an extensive search online and ended up at the Taste of Home website. My goodness, pages of delicious recipes, most complete with gorgeous pictures. As a faithful subscriber (I’ve gotten Taste of Home and Simple & Delicious for years and years) I have access to the website’s collection of recipes.

I spent almost as long looking at pictures and recipes as I did in making the actual cake. Of course, looking at the pictures of my creation and the Taste of Home’s original, one might suggest I spend a little more time working and less dreaming.

Here’s the cake I was striving for:

Not my actual cake.

Really, how hard could it be to make a ‘little’ chocolate cake?

Here’s a shot of my work in progress:

Yes, the cake slid, slipped and took some sort of a nose dive during the chilling portion. True, I tweaked the recipe along the way, but I didn’t see any warnings about potential cake earthquakes.

Ah, it reminds me once again that I will never be a truly excellent chef. I’m afraid I don’t have patience for the details. I used a cake mix rather than making the cake from scratch. I relied on canned cherry pie filling instead of mixing my own. While I was cutting the cake into layers I had a child help me hold it. Sadly, the knife didn’t cut evenly and we ended up with a nice, jagged tear in the top half. The recipe called for cherry filling only in the bottom layer (look closely at the Taste of Home picture and you’ll see what I mean), but I put the filling on two of the four layers.

I’m just a rebel that way.

I tried to follow the directions for the cream and chocolate fillings; here are the ingredients and assembly instructions:

CREAM FILLING:
6 tablespoons butter (no substitutes), softened
4 cups confectioners’ sugar
1-1/2 teaspoons vanilla extract
4 to 5 tablespoons half-and-half cream

CHOCOLATE FILLING:
1 cup whipping cream
1/4 cup chocolate syrup
1 teaspoon vanilla extract

In a mixing bowl, beat cream filling ingredients; cover and refrigerate. In a mixing bowl, beat cream, syrup and vanilla until soft peaks form. Cover and refrigerate.

To assemble, split each cake into two horizontal layers. Place bottom layer on a serving plate; top with 1/2 cup cream filling. Place 1 cup cream filling in a heavy-duty resealable plastic bag; cut a 1/2-in. triangle in one corner of bag. Make a rim of filling 3/4 in. high around outer edge of cake.

Make a second rim 2 in. from edge. Spoon cherry filling between rings. Refrigerate for 30 minutes. Spread chocolate filling over second cake layer; place over cherry filling. Spread remaining cream filling over third layer; place over chocolate filling. Top with fourth layer. Spread frosting over top and sides of cake. Garnish with chocolate curls, cherries and mint. Store in the refrigerator.

It’s okay. My family ‘oohed’ and ‘ahhed’ over the cake. Tim was touched that I would take the time and effort to make one of his birthday favorites. I may never win any culinary awards, but I have a solid fan-base here at home.

If you are a Taste of Home subscriber, I heartily recommend popping over to their website and browsing through their recipes. Yum and double yum.

For other Works for Me Wednesday posts, stop by Rocks in My Dryer.

Kathy

I cut this recipe out of the side of a bag of Bob’s Red Mill flour. The ingredient list was unbelievably short and didn’t involve words like:

yeast
kneading
rise 1 hour
knead again

The recipe, entitled Swope Bread, has been patiently waiting for me, pressed into a page of my breakfast notebook. Yesterday, with an abundance of buttermilk in the house (I have two other FAVORITE recipes that call for buttermilk), I decided to try it out.

Sarah helped me with the mixing but didn’t like the smell.

That’s buttermilk for you.

David and Sarah take frequent breaks from their work in the kitchen.

The end result was delicious. This one, unlike some of my other baking creations, I actually sampled. In fact, I had a difficult time stopping the sampling process. I might not be able to make this again just because of its dangerous levels of temptation for me.

Try it out and let me know what you think.

Swope Bread

4 cups Bob’s Red Mill Stone Ground Whole Wheat Flour
2 cups Bob’s Red Mill Unbleached White Flour
1/2 cup sugar
2 tsp salt

[I used the white and whole wheat flour combo I keep in my flour bin. I also stuck to white, granulated sugar per the recipe, but I think next time I would use Sucanat for a little healthier version.]

1 quart buttermilk
4 tsp baking soda

2 bread pans, greased.

1. Preheat oven to 375.
2. In a large mixing bowl, mix first four (dry) ingredients.
3. In a separate bowl, mix baking soda and buttermilk.
4. Stir wet ingredients into dry.
5. Pour into bread pans and smooth tops of loaves.
6. Place in center of oven. Turn oven down to 350 and bake approximately 50 minutes.
7. Turn out and cool on wire rack.

Sometimes you just have to take a break and read an Archie Digest.

Oh my goodness - easy and delicious!! My family is still wondering where I’ve been hiding this recipe all these years.

Who knows what other treasures are lurking in my little breakfast notebook.

Kathy