As I started this post a few times, I realized how easy it is to be cranky and complain any time I’m talking about weight loss or dieting or whatever you want to call it. And I don’t want this to be all negative, all the time. For one, it’s not a great way to go through life. For another, it’s just plain uninteresting to read. So I’m going to try a little tactic I learned in college: sweet, sour, sweet. Say something good, say something bad, then say something else good. So, here’s three things about my first week back on the wagon:
I was very good about drinking my water. I had at least 6-8 glasses of water every single day this week. Of course, it gave me serious flashbacks to my pregnancy days, what with carting around a full Naglene and making frequent trips to the bathroom. But a good habit that I had really dropped post-pregnancy and needed to pick back up.
Saturday. Saturday was an all-around bad day, wagon-wise. We went out for lunch with the kids, as has become our weekend tradition. Except we go to a Mexican place, and I was lazy in looking for healthy options. I got the always-deceptive taco salad, chock full of cheese, sour cream, and guacamole. And I was so careless and on autopilot that I devoured half a bowl of tortilla chips before smacking myself and saying “good lord, what on earth am I doing?” The rest of the day was no better. Lots of idle snacking, and a very nice belated-birthday meal that included more chips and guac, as well as garlic bread and cake. Sigh.
Sunday! I made up for the crash-and-burn that was Saturday, and was super well-behaved. I had a small breakfast, and though we then went to a kiddie birthday party, I actually brought my own turkey sandwich, and while there had only apple slices, and a couple of small bites of pizza (which I even journaled when I got home). And my kids’ nap schedule meant that we left before cake. Even dinner was totally reasonable, and I didn’t even run out of points on the day. Yay for recovering from a bad day!
Overall, I remembered quite clearly my love/hate relationship with the first week of weight watchers. I hate it, because I’m hungry. I’m hungry because I’m used to just stuffing my face any old time with any old crappy food I want. I’m painfully aware of what I feel I “can’t” have. I try to come up with something to cook for dinner, and all I can think of are thick stews and lots of cheese. Argh!
But it gets better. I get into the groove. I remember my old tricks and standbys (check out an easy weeknight pork recipe on my blog today). I get used to the water and actually find myself wanting to drink another glass. The mindless snacking and craving for sweets is still hard. But it gets better. And then, I get on the scale. Down three this morning! I’ll take it…