Of Regrets and Resolutions

[Mmmm . . . . forbidden donut]

"The best time to plant a tree was 20 years ago.  The second best time is now."

I'm a big fan of New Year's resolutions.  Not necessarily because I'm particularly good at keeping them, but because of the hope they offer: the chance start with a clean slate and do better than I did yesterday.  And for me, there is something rather empowering about the start of a new year, though years have taught me to temper my expectations some (at least in terms of the number of resolutions).

This year, I've thought carefully about two resolutions, but part of seeing them through I think will require making them public (and thereby making me accountable to someone other than myself).

So, here they are:

The first is that I'm aiming to do a physique competition in October 2016.  Many know that this was one of my goals for 2015 (and made up a good part of efforts through September of last year).  But, I started cutting a bit too late given how much fat I needed to lose.  Beyond that, I was also dealing with a rather limiting elbow injury (that I'm actually still dealing with), that lead me to abandon my efforts in the fall.

The second is that I intend to go without sugary treats for the entirety of 2016.* 

If you know me at all, this latter goal will be at least as difficult (if not more so) than the first.  I have a strong attachment to sugary treats: donuts, cookies, brownies, ice cream, cereal, Peanut M&M's, Reese's Peanut Butter Cups, and so on.  I love them.  I also hate them.  As I've noted elsewhere, when I start in on eating them, it's very hard to stop.  And the overconsumption leaves me feeling miserable, if not often downright depressed (and a bit overweight).

So this latter goal, as much as it will help with contest prep, is at least as important to me on an emotional and spiritual level as a physical one.  I want to see what happens to me physically, spiritually, and emotionally as I completely give up sweets.  For a year.

And I expect to document those results here.

Now, given what's happened between September and January (i.e., the repeated and prolonged indulgence), I'm not quite comfortable yet to publicly give up where I'm at physically, much less share any photos.  That may come at some point later on when where I'm at now is sufficiently in the rear view mirror.

As for the ground rules -- what constitutes "sugary treats" -- I can say that it includes everything I mentioned above (donuts, cookies, brownies, ice cream, sugary cereal, candy), and the general test for me is if it's something sugary that I'm inclined to reach for (and potentially over consume) to satisfy my sweet tooth.  That means it also includes gray area items like graham crackers (and animal crackers) and most granola bars (I generally exempt protein bars -- unless and until they become a problem, too), as well as gray area cereals like granola and Honey Bunches of Oats.

Eventually, given my contest prep, I'll work back into regimented carb cycling to cut.  But the baseline for the year will be to avoid sweets entirely.

Of course, by laying out these goals publicly here, I expose myself to the possibility of failing rather publicly.  It's happened before here, and here.  But on the whole, I'm comfortable with the calculated risk. It's one that I've been weighing for weeks now, and I tend to believe I have learned a thing or two from my past failures. 

I look forward to sharing the year's journey with you.

* The irony of sharing this resolution on a blog entitled "The Forbidden Donut" is not lost on me.
  

Nothing Bundt Cakes

Yeah, so it's been a year and a half.  Even longer since I've put out anything meaningful. 

Ah well.  It happens that way sometimes when you've been dabbling in the dark arts of chocolate chip cookies and molasses spice crisps, or working your way toward a new truth in homemade pizza margherita.  One simply loses track of time.

The truth is, I've had little intention of coming back here.  But here I am, drawn back in almost on a dare. 

I was contented enough this evening at a chili cookoff and pinewood derby for the Boy Scouts.  The company at my table was mostly pleasant, 'til the topic turned to cupcakes. 

The women across from me, respectable in every way, seemed to have lost their minds.  Somehow, someway, they scoffed at my affinity for Sprinkles cupcakes, claiming they could name a handful of superior cake/cupcake shops in San Diego.  Maybe.  Yeah, maybe.  I left open the possibility.

So on the way home tonight, we tried one: Nothing Bundt Cakes.   We bought two "bundlets" -- marble cake (particularly recommended), and pecan prailine, totaling nearly $9.

As with the donut tastes we've done in the past, Michelle divided up the bundtlets between the five of us.  My review needs only a few lines:  the cream cheese icing was completely unremarkable.  But I'd been warned of this -- it's the cake itself that was supposed to be amazing.*  And the cake was moist.  But my praise ends there.  Both the marble and pecan praline cakes were fine, but nothing much better than fine.  And nothing, really, that I couldn't have had at home.  So I paid $9 for two small, moist cakes -- with mediocre icing -- that I could've had at home at a fraction of the cost.

Ah well.  After putting the kids to bed, I made a quick trip to Sprinkles (fantastic strawberry and dark chocolate frosting, even if some of the chocolate cake was a little dry).  Yeah, those women, otherwise perfectly respectable, were out of their minds.



*I take issue with this concept generally.  The right kind of cake without frosting can be fine.  More than fine even (I'm thinking of a friend's chocolate hazelnut cake).  But a cake is not meant to outshine its frosting.  It's just not.  It sets up the frosting and creates an atmosphere in which the frosting can shine.  Deserved or not, when you frost a cake, you set up the frosting to be the star.  When this works properly, life is bliss, and all is right in the world.  But it's against the laws of nature to frost a cake and expect that cake to shine any more than it's frosting allows it.