Recipes

Kicking off our our IACP cookbook awards festivities is Pam Anderson the author of The Perfect Recipe for Losing Weight and Eating Great which was nominated in the Health and Special Diet category. 

In Pam's latest and most personal book she shares the food and eating strategy that allowed her to loose forty pounds without sacrificing tasty food.  We asked Pam to talk about what motivated her to loose 40 pounds despite the constant presence of food that her career as a recipe developer and cookbook author requires...

It's Not the Food, Stupid

by Pam Anderson

For years I was overweight. Let's be honest: toward the end of my fat years I was unarguably obese. I had gotten good at telling everyone this was just who I was. I had accepted it, and they'd better as well. We've all got our excuses for packing on extra pounds. Mine was my job.

As a food writer and recipe tester I often sample an astounding number of dishes as I perfect them for my articles and books. Writing days can be problematic as well. After all, writers are famous for using food, alcohol and cigarettes to make up for lost muses. Then there's entertaining on the weekends, and professional trips known for their marathon eating. Pick a day, and I had a good reason to eat more than I should.

On the surface I half believed my own PR, that I was OK with my appearance. After all, I was just a passionate foodie who loved to eat and drink with gusto-and I could hold my own with the best of them.

Although I flashed a confident message that I was just fine, down deep I was insecure about my body. In fact I would have given the rights to my best-selling cookbook to look half decent in a swimsuit. Since I had sworn off diets years ago, however, the only thing left to do was change my life-exercise a little more, eat a little less. But I couldn't see a way to do that. Maybe it would mean a career change, and I wasn't up for that. I loved my work.

I finally got the opportunity to change my life six years ago (a nice way of saying I was a physical and emotional wreck after a big move and an empty nest). I did the only thing I could think to do: made an appointment with my new doctor and scheduled a session with a respected therapist.

After listening to the results of my complete physical, I finally got honest about my health stats and the scale. I started the intentional process of physical healing, a sign I was starting to take pride in myself and care about my body. Eventually I found myself wanting to exercise a little more.

It started with a simple early morning walk, which felt so good I threw in another at day's end. During the weight loss phase, I'd try to sandwich a third in before lunch too. I was diligent, but not obsessive. I did what I could. If it didn't happen, that was OK too. Weight loss meant increased energy, so I started peppering my walks with short runs. Eventually the runs became longer than the walks and to this day, I never run more than a mile without a one-minute walk.

I spent several therapy sessions blaming others for my depleted state, but I got honest here too. For years I had hidden my true self from my family of origin, afraid of any conflict. And in other significant relationships I had carried too much weight and responsibility. I needed the physical heft to shoulder the emotional burdens.

Ultimately I realized it wasn't their fault. I was in charge of my life.  I finally stopped hiding, let others handle their fair share, and put myself where I legitimately belonged-first. As soon as I did, a funny thing started to happen. I started eating a little less.

Where I used to view food as vice to fuel my overworked, neglected body, I now saw it as a pleasurable way of taking care of myself. No more vilifying my food tempters, only to guiltily welcome them back post-diet. I made friends and told them I was in charge now. My exercising a little more and eating a little less worked. I lost forty-five pounds, and that was four years ago.

By changing at the core, I was able to change my life. It's a daily commitment-I still have the same tendencies. But these days I care less about whether I've splurged on a donut or eaten a little heavier on a testing day. I pay more attention to whether I'm working too hard, taking on too much, over-functioning in relationships, or falling silent during conflict. Because after all, it's not about the food. It's about me.

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