Something has clearly come over me. I’m still blazing right along. Yeah, that’s right. I have been on track for (counting the days) TWELVE DAYS. That’s not to say I haven’t treated myself here and there, but I did it sensibly (i.e., not buying a pint of Ben & Jerry’s, but getting a small, uh huh I said small, ice cream cone). I worked out 6 days last week and though I started off with the best of intentions, I missed a few days this week. I had a raging stomach quandary and Portland actually got some snow so I was locked up for a couple days. Yes, I know I could have used my treadmill, but did you catch the sick part? Besides, I’m still worried I’m gonna break the thing.
I got back on track yesterday though when Dustina came over for another training session and I went to the gym after work today. It was after the gym that I really impressed myself. Before I went home I pulled into Taco Bell. Anyone reading this knows Taco Bell is my arch nemesis. My goal was to just get a drink because I had other plans for a dinner treat. I pulled up to order and that dang Mt. Dew called to me like a mythical siren. I held my ground and with my newfound sense of fabulosity…ordered a Diet Pepsi.
Right next-door was dinner. I had called ahead and ordered a pizza from Papa Murphy’s. What? A pizza? Fret not my little bootie shrinking supporters. I got their veggie delite thin crust pizza. But wait, there’s more. On the way home I was trying to figure out how to justify eating it two days in a row (provided I didn’t eat it all in one sitting as was custom) and it hit me…mayhaps I won’t have to.
I knocked on my neighbor’s door. A neighbor, I might add, whose name I only know because she had left me a note to warn me that on Christmas Eve our ever-generous upstairs neighbor had puked over their balcony and onto our lawn and to be careful should Lola feel the need to investigate (gross? Yes. Relevant? No…but still a nice little addition to give you a glimpse into the rapport I have with my neighbor) There was no answer. “Foiled again!” I thought. I came back in and, remembering the aforementioned note, wrote one of my own. It went something like this, “I got a Papa Murphy’s Veggie Delite Thin Crust Pizza. I can’t justify eating it two days in a row (to myself or my trainer), so if you want half, it’s yours. Just gimme a knock.”
After I had baked it, ate mine, and cleaned up she knocked on the door. I thought she was my savior, but alas, she was there to inform me that she had just stopped and picked herself up some Taco Bell. After my split second of envy, I asked her if she wanted it for tomorrow. She said she would check in with me tomorrow, that she was trying to be good too. I thought, “You’re trying to be good, but you just went to Taco Bell?” Anyway, I assured her that it was good and veggie and had an ever so thin, barely there crust and to please come get it tomorrow or I would be forced to finish it. I’m not so sure it worked, but at least I tried.
Now you know dang well that’s a vast improvement of willpower and determination. The last time I got a thin crust pizza I ate that whole thing for dinner. Granted, I should have had a salad or something too, but I’m still gonna chalk this one up as a victory. Where I did fail in the willpower department was at the gym. I went into the ladies locker room with the sole intention of weighing myself. I got in there, hopped on the scale, and realized it only goes to 350. I was fully clothed with shoes and all, there was no way in my 12 days of near perfection that I was going to qualify for scale usage with all those clothes on and this addiction sure as hell ain’t worth strippin’ for like I do at home.
So, I still have no idea how I’m doing. I’d love to give you a number, but it just wasn’t in the cards. I really only wanted to weigh myself there so I had a starting point and could check down the road. Guess that’ll have to wait for another month or so. I’m surprised it took me that long to cave. I’ve been to my sister’s and didn’t get on hers (though I know hers wouldn’t have worked for someone as heavy as me). I’ve been to Mom and Dad’s and they have the same scale as I do, but I didn’t get on it. I am most definitely a work in progress, but progress I’ve made and progress I will continue to make. Ferreals.
I got back on track yesterday though when Dustina came over for another training session and I went to the gym after work today. It was after the gym that I really impressed myself. Before I went home I pulled into Taco Bell. Anyone reading this knows Taco Bell is my arch nemesis. My goal was to just get a drink because I had other plans for a dinner treat. I pulled up to order and that dang Mt. Dew called to me like a mythical siren. I held my ground and with my newfound sense of fabulosity…ordered a Diet Pepsi.
Right next-door was dinner. I had called ahead and ordered a pizza from Papa Murphy’s. What? A pizza? Fret not my little bootie shrinking supporters. I got their veggie delite thin crust pizza. But wait, there’s more. On the way home I was trying to figure out how to justify eating it two days in a row (provided I didn’t eat it all in one sitting as was custom) and it hit me…mayhaps I won’t have to.
I knocked on my neighbor’s door. A neighbor, I might add, whose name I only know because she had left me a note to warn me that on Christmas Eve our ever-generous upstairs neighbor had puked over their balcony and onto our lawn and to be careful should Lola feel the need to investigate (gross? Yes. Relevant? No…but still a nice little addition to give you a glimpse into the rapport I have with my neighbor) There was no answer. “Foiled again!” I thought. I came back in and, remembering the aforementioned note, wrote one of my own. It went something like this, “I got a Papa Murphy’s Veggie Delite Thin Crust Pizza. I can’t justify eating it two days in a row (to myself or my trainer), so if you want half, it’s yours. Just gimme a knock.”
After I had baked it, ate mine, and cleaned up she knocked on the door. I thought she was my savior, but alas, she was there to inform me that she had just stopped and picked herself up some Taco Bell. After my split second of envy, I asked her if she wanted it for tomorrow. She said she would check in with me tomorrow, that she was trying to be good too. I thought, “You’re trying to be good, but you just went to Taco Bell?” Anyway, I assured her that it was good and veggie and had an ever so thin, barely there crust and to please come get it tomorrow or I would be forced to finish it. I’m not so sure it worked, but at least I tried.
Now you know dang well that’s a vast improvement of willpower and determination. The last time I got a thin crust pizza I ate that whole thing for dinner. Granted, I should have had a salad or something too, but I’m still gonna chalk this one up as a victory. Where I did fail in the willpower department was at the gym. I went into the ladies locker room with the sole intention of weighing myself. I got in there, hopped on the scale, and realized it only goes to 350. I was fully clothed with shoes and all, there was no way in my 12 days of near perfection that I was going to qualify for scale usage with all those clothes on and this addiction sure as hell ain’t worth strippin’ for like I do at home.
So, I still have no idea how I’m doing. I’d love to give you a number, but it just wasn’t in the cards. I really only wanted to weigh myself there so I had a starting point and could check down the road. Guess that’ll have to wait for another month or so. I’m surprised it took me that long to cave. I’ve been to my sister’s and didn’t get on hers (though I know hers wouldn’t have worked for someone as heavy as me). I’ve been to Mom and Dad’s and they have the same scale as I do, but I didn’t get on it. I am most definitely a work in progress, but progress I’ve made and progress I will continue to make. Ferreals.
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