Cooking Out with the Food Nazis
Before I had to head to the Post-Event Intervention workflow meeting (held in conjunction with the informative session on atrioventricular blocks...), I got to stop by the company cookout. This year we had a western theme. This means there were baked beans, country music blared, and the favors they handed out were bandannas. (I got a khaki one for Sean to use in tying back his new 'do!)
Really, they're pretty lame. If for no other reason, they're lame because they don't entail an entire day, or even an entire hour, of fun in the sun at The Company's Expense. Nope. We are sent out in 15-minute increments or so. So we all filed past the Big White Board to find out what time we would be allowed to go downstairs and collect our pulled pork. My time was 12:45.
I have to interrupt here and state that I am extremely fond of everyone on my team. Some I know better than others, but I really like them all. This must be established before I go on.
My three time slot buddies were the teams' three Registered Dieticians. Aka, the Food Nazis.
Now, I should state that not only am I extremely fond of everyone on my team, but I love, really love R.D.'s in general. Such a well-informed, holistic bunch! For some reason, M.D.'s sometimes feel they are qualified to churn out bullshit books with titles like Eat The Stuff I Tell You to Eat! Buy My Brand-name of Food! Otherwise You Will be FAT Your Entire Life!, but really, M.D.'s are poorly qualified when it comes to human nutrition. They have about as much of it as you did of philosophy in college. R.D.'s, on the other hand, have nothing but Human Nutrition. They're fucking amazing and I love them.
Not always the best people to eat with.
Hey! They know what to eat! I have actually changed quite a few of my eating habits based simply on what I have witnessed the R.D.'s I know eating. (For instance, my string cheese? Good! They all pack it! Fruit? Wondrous! They all bring tons! Salads? Have a giant one and slop on the lowfat cottage cheese! They're great for ya!) So in a way, they are great to eat with--on an everyday basis. But I despaired of actually getting to eat any pulled pork while in their company.
You see, I have that particular brand of eating disorder as well. I feel compelled to constantly compare what I am eating with what everyone else is eating. Therefore, if I hang out mostly with nibblers, I lose weight. If I hang out mostly with big giant 6'4" men, I tend to gain weight (sorry, honey!). It doesn't really matter how I feel, or what I want. I'm not really capable of determining those things. I just eat what I feel like I'm supposed to eat.
So, as I said, I figured it'd be a veggie burger and a pile of salad for me. I tried to keep my eyes on my own plate as much as possible.
When all had made their way through the lines, we decided to plop down in a sunny patch of lawn in front of the building (rather than in the company-provided tents in the parking lot). It was then that I began the Hardcore Plate Comparison.
My plate came up short. I sat crosslegged in the grass, surrounded by skinny girls with groaning paper plates. Plates laden with barbequed chicken, giant hot dogs, veggie burgers, baked beans, potato salad, pulled pork sandwiches, apple crisp, and multiple cookies. They ate me under the table, every one of them. And some went back for seconds.
What can we learn from this, boys and girls?
It's Ok to overeat. Sometimes.