Befriending Chocolate Cake

August 19, 2014

By Amy Coward

I am sitting at my desk looking at a piece of chocolate cake. We had an office birthday party this morning and chocolate ganache cake is a really hard thing to resist, but if you’re a woman in America, you’re supposed to resist.

I don’t know about you, but dieting has been a year-round past-time for me – probably since I was 15. There are always a few, okay sometimes 10-15, extra pounds hanging around. It’s annoying. But more importantly, it’s very un-American. According to all the magazine covers, American women should be thin. Very thin. Ignore the fact that I am 50…ahem… years old with three grown children and a full-time event planning job that involves lots of lunch meetings and evening receptions with the worst food ever. I am supposed to be thin.

Just look at the headlines, “Lose Every Bulge, “ “Burn Fat Doing Yoga, “Transform Your Tush” right next to others that read, “Easy Skillet Apple Pie” and “Sweet Ideas for Spring Baking.” Talk about mixed messages. And if you flip the cable channels, you will find one commercial after another touting special exercise equipment, routines or even diet plans that will make you into the thin, 6-pack American you’re supposed to be.

I work in an office full of women and on any given day, you hear, “you’re being so good!” if you’re eating a salad. Or, “I was bad today – I had a hamburger.” Or, “I just had a cookie, guess I’m going to the gym after work!” I think it’s time we gave ourselves a little break. I’m not thin (or rich or tan – the trifecta of perfection in America) but I’m very healthy. I have low cholesterol, low blood pressure and a normal BMI.I run road races, including half marathons and go to the gym. I am healthy enough to do all of this and if these hips of mine are bigger than some, I’d say it’s because they’re just working overtime. But in America, there are no brownie points (excuse the sweet reference) for good health.

On a recent trip to Cambodia, my body and those of my family were in stark contrast to the local people there. The average man was 5’6” and about 110, with women slightly shorter. Some of that is genetic, some nutrition. As residents of a third world country, 1 in 3 children under 5 are underweight. They have no clean drinking water, no trash collection and poor health care services. They’re dealing with all this and my daily concern is my weight? Hmmm… maybe I need to re-think this. If I have no health problems, am able to run, enjoy the gym and avoid the doctor, maybe I don’t have as much to worry about as I thought.

I don’t know how easy it’s going to be to lighten up where my weight is concerned though. America is pretty good at telling us we’re “less than” because of how we look, what we drive and where we live. America has apparently read, “How to Win Friends and Influence People” and she’s good at it. Think of all she’s convinced us of: wearing heels even when our feet hurt, wearing sleeveless dresses to a holiday party in the winter, not wearing white after Labor Day. I think America is kind of a mean girl.

I know it’s going to be tough, but I’m going to make a concerted effort to focus on health from now on instead of calorie counts and numbers on a scale. Think I can do it? I’ll be surrounded by everyone who’s still on the Spanx train, but I can try. Maybe I’ll be less grouchy if I have more than some lettuce leaves, a cup of soup and the 80 ounces of water I’m told to drink for lunch. Maybe I’ll become a kinder, gentler Amy. Who knows?

So chocolate cake, you and I are going to be friends. Once in a while, we’re going to hang out. And America, I still like you, but please don’t remind me how many miles I have to run to burn this off.