Ever get hungry after you eat? I do. After I finish eating dinner, I often want second dinner. And let the record show: My first dinner isn’t one crouton. I only eat two meals per day. My first dinner has been known to include: a pound of cabbage, three hamburgers, handfuls homemade french fries… And [...]
Ever get hungry after you eat?
I do.
After I finish eating dinner, I often want second dinner.
And let the record show: My first dinner isn't one crouton. I only eat two meals per day. My first dinner has been known to include: a pound of cabbage, three hamburgers, handfuls homemade french fries…
And it's still not enough; I'm compelled to continue eating. If I listened to my body, I'd be screwed. After first dinner, I've reached my caloric allotment for the day. Eating more would break the bank.
The obvious (dumb) way to dissolve my second dinner desire would be to talk myself out of my compulsion. I know I shouldn't eat second dinner, therefore, I will serenade myself away from second dinner.
Rarely works.
Feelings are more powerful than thoughts. I know I shouldn't eat, but I feel like I need to eat. The odds are ever not in my favor. This is why I created the carrot consent form.
With with the carrot consent form, resisting second dinner is easier than it otherwise would be.
Food is a drug?
In order for the carrot consent form to make sense, I have to rewind and dissect my compulsion to eat after just having ate. This compulsion rarely stems from being hungry.
If you aren't a broken soul in a torturous relationship with food, you might not understand what follows…
Food gives us energy and nutrients. We need both to survive. This is why we get hungry. Our body says, “Please eat something. Because if you don't, we'll be dead in about three weeks.”
But food can also be a “drug.” I use the term “drug” loosely (unethically), but hear me out.
When you eat a bunch of food, your parasympathetic (rest & digest) nervous system dominates your sympathetic (fight & flight) nervous system. Your body diverts blood and resources to your intestines, which leaves less blood and resources available for other processes. This is why you get sleepy and lethargic after you eat a big meal.
When I cram calories into myself, my overthinking nerd brain can't feed my anxiety. This is why I'm compelled to eat second dinner. My body is fishing for the numbing properties of food, more than the survival properties of food.
How do I know? I don't know for sure. My hunch stems from the things I crave after first dinner.
You eat pie after dinner.
Every Thanksgiving, millions of people cram pecan pie through their piehole despite being more stuffed than the turkey they just ate. How do we “make room” for dessert even though we can't eat another bite of dinner?
Here's the theory:
Your body links flavors and nutrients. When you get stuffed after eating thirteen plates of turkey, your body is saying: My belly is full and I have enough of these nutrients now, you can stop eating.
But your body needs a bunch of different nutrients to survive. Other types of flavors are still appetizing while you're satiated, because your body assumes the different flavor(s) will yield different nutrients — nutrients that you've yet to fill up on.
The carrot consent form.
When I'm compelled to eat after having just ate, I don't want more of what I just ate. I want something wildly different, flavor-wise. Usually something beyond sweet.
I go on forever speculating why, but the why doesn't matter (see this). Here's what does matter: My body is trying to get me to shove food into my face even though (a) I'm not hungry, and (b) I've reached my calorie ceiling.
Enter: the carrot consent form.
Instead of listening to my body and succumbing to my urges, I make myself sign a non-verbal consent form.
Okay Anthony, you wanna eat more? Fine. You can… IF AND ONLY IF you eat three raw carrots first. If you can't eat three raw carrots, then you know you AREN'T hungry and you know you SHOULDN'T shove whatever sloppy sweet substance you're craving through your esophagus.
This stupid mental game helps me resist second dinner for three reasons.
First, it makes me feel.
More often than not, after finishing first dinner, the thought of eating three raw carrots is repulsive. Not because I don't like carrots. I do. I eat raw carrots almost every day for lunch. But, after first dinner, I'm not in the mood for them; my body got mucho vegetables during first dinner.
Even more, when I think about eating carrots for second dinner, it has a visceral impact in the yuck direction… which is a good thing. It makes me feel. Sort of like how the thought of scraping a Popsicle stick on my teeth gives me goosebumps.
Feelings are more powerful than thoughts.
Instead of relying solely on my thoughts to resist second dinner, I have some feel by my side.
Second, I see behind the scenes.
I think about eating raw carrots. Yuck. After the vomit swimming in my esophagus settles, I think about what I am in the mood for: something beyond sweet (usually). This comes with a side of cognitive dissonance.
I just felt how not hungry I was, yet I am compelled to eat more. What the heck is going on?
This reminds me of what my body is really fishing for: I'm trying to bypass my current feeling of satiety in order to shove more food into my body, likely for “drug” reasons.
It's one thing to mindlessly eat something because you feel hungry, even though you aren't. It's another thing to mindfully eat something when you don't feel hungry, solely for “drug” effects.
Feelings are more powerful than thoughts, but that doesn't mean thoughts are useless. Especially when they help you see how stupid you are.
Third, it's not combative.
I'm going to gag after I type this, but, whatever. Since I'm not restricting my second dinner desire outright, I feel like I'm giving my feelings merit. Rejecting second dinner outright invalidates my feelings, which sounds way too serious under the context of me cramming carrots into my cakehole.
It's like this: Being in an argument with someone and fronting your reply with, “I understand the point you're making. I hear you. But here's something else to think about…”
As opposed to this: Being in an argument with someone and replying with, “You're an idiot.”
It's the little things…
It's stupid. I know.
The carrot consent form is flawed. I'm aware. You have to remember to present the form, and then you have to honor the sanctity of the non-verbal contract. You need some personal accountability.
The last thing I want to do when I'm craving sweet treats and second dinner is contemplate cramming carrots into my mouth. But when I get myself to sign the carrot consent form, it works.
Going through the mental mouse trap is usually enough to make me realize I'm not hungry and my compulsion is irrational. But, even when it isn't, the carrot consent form still works. Because I move to the next rung on the ladder: having to eat the carrots.
Turns out, eating the carrots prior to second dinner is just as repulsive as I think it sounds. After eating one or two, I lose my appetite for everything.
May the Gains be with you,
Ant