Va-va-voom! I am on a roll!
The above are three meals, from the past 24 hours where I ate out; I tried my best to make the smartest decisions possible, and think I was rather successful *as I pat myself on the back*
- Instead of our original plan, to eat 3,083 (!!!!!) calorie chicken fajitas at Lone Star, I asked my friend if we could head somewhere with a healthy alternative - she suggested The Keg Steakhouse and Bar (where I worked all through my university days & love!). I ordered an oh-so-very delicious steak with side asparagus, which My Fitness Pal told me was 435 calories and 66 calories respectively. I *really* wanted the side order of garlic mashed potatoes, but what do ya know? I survived without them! S.h.o.c.k.i.n.g.
- Then today at lunch I sat in a lovely Italian restaurant for some MSN Canada lunch action, and despite reading over the pizza and pasta list 3.2 million times, I ordered the “arugula, pear, gorgonzola, candied pecans, red wine mustard dressing salad” (with chicken) and it was delicious! Sure, the candied pecans are probably on my buttocks as I type this, but overall, A+.
- Then tonight I went to dinner with my sister & her husband, and badda-bing, badda-boom I ordered a “bun-less burger” and “side of broccoli.” Yup. So that happened. Slow clap… athankyouverymuch. They both ordered delicious fries, and I only stole
threefive, so I was pret-ty proud of myself for this one. GOLD STAR FOR ME!
So… I hate to admit this, but the reason I’ve been in the “must lose weight; must stop half-assing it” zone is because I somewhat reached the point where I feel disgusted in my own skin. I know, I know, that’s bad to say. But none of my clothes were (are) fitting well, and when I look in the mirror I don’t see myself anymore, rather I see someone bigger than I believe I should be.
It’s a sad reality for me, but I do remember this from when I lost weight the first time; it’s easier to lose weight when I really don’t like what I see in the mirror; and a lot harder to lose weight when I think I look okay. And to me, right now? I really don’t look okay, and quite frankly I am embarrassed of my body.
After the Berlin Marathon and hiking to Base Camp Mt. Everest, I hit my lowest (adult) weight ever: 147 pounds (66.8kg). The day I returned home from Australia I weighed in at **Insert The Biggest Loser Suspense Music Here** 185.0 pounds (84kg). So yup. Just gonna leave that there and walk backwards away from my computer. (ps. This morning I weighed 179).
Whoa. Wasn’t even planning on sharing all those dirty deets, but I suppose I’m in a happy, sharing, fralalalala mood. I gained weight. It happened. It sucks. I wish I hadn’t. But it did. That’s that. So now it’s time to get back on the healthy-horse, and start saying no, choosing me over cheese, and once again, proving to myself I can do this, I will do this, just watch me.
Day three of counting calories, and counting…