We went to the mall tonight, that bastion of healthy food, that very model of consumer moderation, and of course Beth wanted to visit the food court. Miles, our son, is taking a class on making models at a gaming store (need to get those geek kids started early), and Beth, his four-year-old sister, has very little to do during these two hours except romp in the play area (it’s like a giant playpen for kids, with benches along the side for the weary parents), and watch her mother hyperventilate from nostalgia (or plastic fumes, hard to tell which) in the Hello Kitty store.
We were doing okay until we passed the Cinnabon counter, and then I was puuulllllled in, by alien forces I can’t begin to understand. I could almost see the tracking beam find me, and then, Homer Simpson-like, almost lose me due to my overly large belly. But then it got me again, and then I was standing there, in front of the smiling Cinnabon man, thinking things like:
- My last Cinnabon was three weeks ago. One Cinnabon every three weeks counts as moderation, right?
- This guy has a lot of tattoos for someone working in retail. As a tattooed person myself, should I be happy about that?
- How much dairy is in one of these anyway?
- Just one won’t hurt.
- If I don’t write about it on my blog, it’s like it didn’t happen.
Approximately $4 later, I was going home with a large, doughy, milk-filled pastry that went against my Buddhist vow to not harm any sentient beings, in several interpretations of the phrase.
I’m a little over half-way through it, and I just stopped. I gave the rest to Jason and Greg, who devoured it. It felt really good to stop. I wasn’t inhaling it or anything, but I was having that strange experience where it feels simultaneously good and bad to be eating something. Do only people who struggle with their weight have this sensation?
It’s very hard to catch yourself in the moment that you’re doing something you really, deep down, don’t want to be doing, especially when it offers this kind of delicious food escapism. The Cinnabon helps me forget that my back is hurting, my hair smells like the pool, the regular problems with anxiety, the annoyance at my sports watch breaking, and the grief I felt last night watching Spirit of the Marathon while knowing how unlikely it is that I could ever complete an event like that.
Obviously, eating the Cinnabon contributes to anxiety, and probably back pain, and definitely to my inability to run a marathon (let’s all be glad that it doesn’t make your hair smell like a pool). So why do we do it? It isn’t mysterious. It’s the inability to put aside short term happiness for long term happiness. It’s the tendency that we all have to one degree or another, and it’s a pain in the ass for many of us. Malls are there to exploit it, as are Cinnabons. I was suckered in, and I went down with a smile.
I’m not going to beat myself up about this, in case you’re wondering. I promised moderation, and that’s what I’m doing, and it feels good so far, and beating myself up about a cinnamon roll would have zero positive effect except to make me feel guilty and encourage me to quit, which isn’t something I want. I’m turning over a new leaf.
{ 9 comments… read them below or add one }
The alien forces are actually the corporate overlords at Cinnabon, who deliberately blow the smell of the baking cinnamon rolls into the air with precisely aimed vents. Those jerks!
I dunno, I don’t have much problem bypassing a “naughty” food most of the time, even if it smells or looks great. For it to be a real craving, I usually wait 2 or 3 days, and if I still desperately want it, I have whatever it is, no guilt. Most of the time, craving goes away. For me, I don’t think it’s the cravings or the inability to refrain from eating a food I “shouldn’t” or delaying gratification vs. WANT RIGHT NOW, it’s that I tend to forget to eat more often than not, which results in me opening the fridge and downing whatever is closest/most easily prepared (or god forbid, swinging into the Burgerville drive-thru), which is NEVER the healthiest, and it’s usually in larger quantities than wise because by the time I eat, I’m *starving*. Maybe I’m too good at delaying gratification and then really really bad at moderating the gratification once it hits. *hahah*
Natasha – I think Mrs. Field’s Cookies started that practice, didn’t they? I’ve heard even McDonald’s does it.
Lisa – I have the last problem AND the first. :) I am constantly surprised I don’t weigh less considering I forget to eat, but then when I write down what I’m actually eating when I do finally get in the kitchen, it’s usually pretty calorie-dense.
you’re winning the battle. the fact that you did not eat the whole Cinnabon and actually sat and thought about it means that you’re ahead of the game!
I think people who struggle with their weight think a lot more about food then others. I know, for me, I slip back and forth between feeling good about eating something that tastes awesome and feeling bad knowing it’s not exactly the healthiest thing to be eating.
My biggest breakthrough happened when I stopped beating myself up over eating something bad for me and just decided that I needed to make up for it with exercise. Nothing good ever comes from food guilt. God, sometimes food guilt would make me eat more.
Cinnabons don’t do it for me – but oh lordy, movie popcorn? That’s a smell-it-gotta-have-it for me. And, it seems, for my Mom. Even at 80 year old. When I take her to the movies it’s silly, she’ll say “well, maybe we should just split a small” and I look at her in astonishment and she laughs – “GOTCHA!” she says and we order a large. :)
You are getting wiser by the minute, Hollie.
I’d put this: “It’s the inability to put aside short term happiness for long term happiness.” on a sticky note on your fridge, and on your wallet, along with “I’m not going to beat myself up and feel guilty.” :) To remind yourself of the good stuff.
I think the fact you got halfway through and then said, “Hey, you know what? This isn’t making me feel that great, so I’ll stop,” is just HUGE. And also, the very definition of moderation. So, rock it out, pretty girl. You just kicked that Cinnabon’s ass.
Jen – What you said, YES! I’ve never become a better person after beating myself up.
Camel – I never think movie popcorn sounds remotely good, and even think it sounds gross, until I get some. :) Whenever we go to the movies, Greg orders it, and I make faces at him, and then ten minutes later I’m digging at the bag for my third handful, and wondering how I could have thought there was ANYTHING WRONG WITH SUCH DELICIOUSNESS.
Johanna – Awww, thanks dahhling. But are you sure I’m not becoming a bigger wiseass by the minute? That sticky note sounds like a good idea. I might also want to past one across the doors of Little Caesar’s. I’m sure they wouldn’t mind.
Meg – Thank you! I felt more like it kicked my ass, but you’re right, I see what you mean. I am not defeated! I will triumph!