Do you eat your feelings?
I eat my feelings.
It was 2:00 p.m. when I first heard Lucy, my Shih-Tzu, start whining.
I scooted over to the door to see if she needed to go out. Using my most singsong-y voice, I invited her into the back yard. She stood stock still. No movement. Again I sang. No movement. Only whining from deep in the bottom of her throat.
“What is it, girl?”
Concerned that maybe I forgot to feed her, I went into the laundry room and checked her silver, crown-embossed bowls (I wish I was kidding, but no, the Queen has standards. At least they aren’t sterling?)
Her bowls were filled to the brim. But just in case Miss Priss knew something I didn’t, I emptied the water bowl and refilled them again, topping off the food.
She stood by the laundry room door and continued to whimper. Each whine more pitiful than the last. This time, I chose to ignore the whining and trudged back to my office.
Put down your Oreo. I have some important news.
Dr. Michael Roizen, Chief Wellness Officer at the Cleveland Clinic, says that every 10 years after the age of 35, women lose about five percent of their muscle mass. This matters a lot–not because you and I want to look like buff beauties, but because muscle burns more calories than fat does. If we have less muscle mass, we will consequently have a greater tendency to gain weight.
Bad news, I know.