Don't Let Perfect Be the Enemy of Good (& why TJ's crunchy salted almond butter is banned from my apartment!)

I admit it: it's difficult for me to indulge moderately when I have the opportunity to eat my favorite foods. Despite the fact that I'm a personal trainer and prioritize my health, I certainly have my weaknesses! Mindful eating and practicing moderation are concepts that I struggle with on the regular, even with foods that aren't what one might consider "junk" or "unhealthy" (for the record, I loathe words like these; no food is inherently good or inherently bad, IMO....more on this in another post!). Whether I'm consuming trail mix or Ben and Jerry's in excess, however, the result is the same: in that moment, I feel defeated. Even though my ability to practice moderation may fail me once in a while, all is not lost; there is always a valuable lesson to be learned from the experience. Take, for instance, what happened to me last week:

It was mid-week and I was feeling in need of an indulgence. I got home, poured myself a glass of cabernet sauvignon an sat down on the couch to enjoy an episode of House of Cards. I've been counting macros, and managed to fit a slice of delicious cheese pizza into my meal plan. The slice was divine, complemented oh-so-perfectly by the cab sauv. I was feeling the wine, and riding high on the fact that I was finally getting the hang of counting my macros. Justifiably, I poured myself another glass. Fine. I started itching for something sweet. Next thing I know, I'm digging through the cabinet for my #1 favorite nut butter of all time, Trader Joe's Crunchy Salted Almond Butter.

Cheers, Claire. 

I told myself that I would just have a tablespoon-full spread on a piece of toast. And I do. But that didn't satisfy my jones, so I pulled out some dried fruit and commenced to dip the dried fruit in the jar of almond butter and munch...and munch...and munch. And before I knew it, the jar of almond butter is 2/3 gone and I'd just bought it that morning! I pulled myself away and, feeling defeated, shuffled off to bed.

Did I really just eat all that?!

The next morning, I woke up with feelings bordering on guilt. However, I remained resolute and refused to give into any emotion that is not constructive. I took the time to walk myself through the moments leading up to my binge: What was on my mind? What was the trigger? And then it hits me like a ton of bricks: my beloved TJ's Crunchy Salted Almond Butter is my Achilles heel. It is the trigger.

I thought back to previous over-indulgences, and realize that unfortunately I can't guarantee that if I keep this stuff in the house I won't overeat it. I can't be sure of anything around this food because it has some power over me. Recognizing that and admitting it to myself is the first step towards eliminating the trigger. So before I could chicken out, I went to the cabinet, grabbed the nearly empty jar and threw it in the garbage. Then, to avoid the temptation of digging it out later on once I'd had a change of heart, I tied up the garbage, took it outside, and dropped it in the bin. Ladies and gentlemen, this is what liberation feels like!

Actual photo of 2/3-eaten jar of almond butter in my trash
before I took it out to the garbage bins!

To say that I felt liberated by this gesture borders on hyperbole. It's more accurate to say that I felt resolved, relieved, and empowered. My mind kept playing back the other times I'd lost control with my face in a jar of this liquid gold: it was unfathomable then that I would ever be strong enough to not only not buy the stuff again for a while, but trash whatever I had left so as not to be further tempted. I felt like I really turned an important corner in my journey towards having a healthy relationship with food.

Go say this to yourself in the mirror, right now!

It's not hard to understand why I had a hard time admitting to myself that this delicious stuff was a trigger: admitting that you're powerless up against something as innocuous as almond butter is difficult! This is especially true when you consider yourself to be a "professional", in a position to dole out advice to others about how to have a healthy relationship with food. However, when I allow myself to be overly self-critical like this, I think I miss the point entirely: we all struggle with something, and when you are true to yourself and others about those struggles, you become more connected. The sign of a successful trainer or health coach is not how little she struggles with these issues; rather, it's how readily she accepts that she's not perfect, strives for constant improvement, and empowers her clients to do the same. That's the type of coach and fit pro I aspire to be!