No One Can Eat Just One

A major first tonight:
I only ate one slice of pizza.

Big deal right?

Wrong.

I can't even remember the last time I ate a single slice.  I was probably a kid.  A little kid at that.

I have had a problem with food as long as I can remember.  It hasn't always been overeating.  There was a time in my adult life when I weighed 107 pounds and wore a dress that was a 3/4.  It was years ago, but I was already living on my own and in college.  At the time I was dating a man who said he would love me more if I weighed less.  Even then, when I was the smallest I would be (and about 40+ pounds lighter than I was as an eighth grader) I could kill  a whole pizza all by myself.

The thing that prompted me to only eat one slice was the enormous calorie count.  Maybe not the best reason, but the honest one.  For one sixth of the thin crust two topping pizza we bought, it contained 440 calories.  I was aghast.  I only ate an eighth of the pizza, but still....

 Did I want a second slice?  Yes.  Did I eat anything else?  Yes - I had a salad with spinach, carrots, celery, mushrooms, a few sunflower seeds and vinaigrette.  Did I die?  No.  But I spent the rest of the night thinking about what I could have as a snack because I seem to always be eating.  I knew what I didn't want to eat (junk food) and also what I didn't want (an apple, celery or vegetables).

Still, that slice was really good.  Incredibly good.  It was kind of cold because I ate the salad first, but I enjoyed it slowly and tasted every bite.  I didn't gulp it down like it would be stolen from me and I didn't eat it mindlessly.  I even watched Top Chef and didn't snack afterward at all (which is a special kind of miracle, especially with Andy eating Chicken n' a Biscuit crackers), but I am definitely going to make some beans tomorrow because the beantown challenge with the crispy garbanzos Melissa made looked amazing.

I hope this is a trend.  I really really do.