Is eating really a pleasure?

I had a birthday the other day.
Along with that, I decided to try an experiment.

I allowed myself a day of total freedom where I could eat whatever I wanted.

Normally, I consume at most 1300 kcal a day.
Since I calculate this based on my body size,
there is nothing I can do about it.
If I want to increase it, I have no choice but to exercise.

For the past year, I have been facing my own body.
I record what I eat,
and no matter how many celebrations I have, I practice moderation so that the next day
I can reset it,
keeping my reason in check.


But on this day, I won't count calories.
I will remove the numerical constraints and eat according to my desires.

Breaking free from self-control

That said, I went to Pilates in the morning.

Pilates suits my personality very well.
I like the moderate load that makes me sweat gently,
and the feeling of my inner muscles aching with soreness.

The content of my meals that day was something like this.

Breakfast was the same as usual, far from a feast.

Lunch. This is where the carbohydrate festival begins.

At my favorite bakery, I chose
a banh mi packed with ingredients,
a fluffy baked oyaki,
and a fragrant baguette.

Lined up on the tray, they felt
like that moment during a trip abroad when you buy whatever you want without worrying about your wallet,
the moment when the concept of a tight budget becomes extinct.

Yeah, I'm full.

But somehow, an indescribable feeling
is slowly washing over me.

While I was working, a gift arrived in the evening.
Peaches gifted for my birthday. The moment I opened the box,
a sweet fragrance wafted up.
I'll eat this now.

I'm filling up the gaps in my stomach again before dinner.

It must have been a gift.
They were magnificent peaches.

For my husband, who hates eating out even on his birthday,
I busily prepare hand-rolled sushi myself.
A self-produced birthday party.
If you want something done, do it yourself. That's our family motto.

Oji Salmon's smoked salmon is irresistible.
The scallops are plump, too.
Let's put in some good quality crab sticks as well.
Today, mayonnaise is also back on the menu.

As much as I like, of whatever I like.
I want to eat lots of toppings, so I'll go light on the rice.
The sense of customization unique to hand-rolled sushi
increases my satisfaction even more.

After this, there's still the cake I bought for myself.
I debated whether to leave a little room for it,
but in the end, I'm about 90% full.

About 30 minutes later,
I brewed my favorite Mariage Frères tea
to welcome the cake.

I had a peach mille-feuille and
a roll cake filled with plenty of fruit (I made sure there was no melon).

Is this what they call a sugar festival?

That moment was blissful.
Every time I ate, it felt like fireworks were going off in my brain,
and I kept whispering to myself, 'Birthdays are the best.'

But from the very moment I finished eating,
a sensation unlike anything I had felt before came over me.

Is my act of 'eating' truly a pleasure?
The sweetness and aroma the moment it enters my mouth,
and the umami spreading across my tongue certainly bring a sense of happiness.

However, the heaviness, lethargy, and dull regret
that follow that fleeting high
feel almost like a debt disguised as pleasure.

It reminds me of something.

Oh, this might be similar to that feeling
when I resort to escapist pleasure-seeking behaviors.

The feeling of continuing this,
and above all, the despair I felt when I noticed the fat around my waist
and the thin layers of fat appearing here and there.
The difficulty in moving and that feeling of not being able to wear the clothes I want.

The old me used to blame it on age or metabolism,
trying to convince myself in a way that was convenient.
But that was clearly a foolish judgment.

If you train your body, it will respond properly.
By knowing your own constitution and practicing moderation,
it starts to move lightly, just like a well-maintained car.

Of course, like a car, aging is unavoidable.
However, by facing it carefully, applying the necessary load,
and adjusting it appropriately, it can still perform at its best.

Instead of slamming on the accelerator at the whim of desire,
knowing the speed at which you can continue to run comfortably.
That is the condition for steering toward happiness,
rather than just pleasure.

Pleasure fills the moment. Happiness lightens the future.
I have finally realized that difference.

For my birthday this year, I ate as much as I wanted of whatever I liked.
It was a kind of experiment, but
I realized clearly that I no longer need this pleasure-seeking behavior.

From now on, rather than having "days to unleash my desires,"
I want to accumulate "days that make my body happy."

Days built up in that way will surely not betray my future self.
And I believe that is the true luxury for me,
and a form of maturity.