Last night, I should have received the weightloss saint award.
Not only did I say 'no' to food, I denied it 3 times.
I was out with the family at Fremlin Walk. We all went to see the Christmas lights.
As we wouldn't be home for dinner, I knew we would be eating out. The big push was for McDonalds. My brother has 3 small kids, and as most parents know, the big M is always a cheap and cheerful option. Did I crumble? Did my tummy go nuts when we walked past KFC? Did visions of Burger King dance in my head? You bet they did. Yours truly, however, walked on to Subway, and was rewarded with a 6 inch Italian cheese and herb with ham, turkey breast and every salad you can imagine. Worth waiting for!
Later when I came home, our temporary border had news of his departure. It would appear he found himself a flat. This is not certain he says, but is probably a sure thing. To celebrate he said we should have some cheese cake. I immediately denied his offer, of course, reminding him I was on a diet. House mate (totally unaccustomed to diets), said "stuff your diet! We're celebrating!". My very well trained excuse for eating centre in my brain went wild. There was echos of "of course" and "don't you see his very valid point", right down to the guilt trip of "poor guy has just come through a divorce and is getting back on his feet, celebrate with him and don't be so selfish!". I reacted by calling once again on my inner saint.
I decided at this point it would be safer for me upstairs, away from the evil treats of mankind. Got on my trusty 'My Fitness Pal' app, and logged my calories for the day.
Now you must know that since the house mate's purchase of the evil cheese cake, I have been saintly by pretending it was not there - that was 2 days ago. Yesterday I cut the smallest slice possible and took it to work for a midmorning snack. I ate this guilt free, as the slice was tiny, and I knew I had the calorie allowance for it.
I populated my food diary with my saintly foods, and finally added the cheese cake. To my absolute horror the horrible little beasty came in at 265 calories!
As many dieters will tell you, that is the ultimate excuse to blow your diet for the day. It's a case of everything is ruined anyway so I may as well just eat everything because I hate the world, and myself, and I don't care anymore.
Did I admit knowing the blessed little treasures in the kitchen downstairs? I did not! A third time I denied them.
My reward was not 3 pieces of silver, but a whopping 0.7kg weigh loss over night.
Do I hear a cock crowing some where?
Not only did I say 'no' to food, I denied it 3 times.
I was out with the family at Fremlin Walk. We all went to see the Christmas lights.
As we wouldn't be home for dinner, I knew we would be eating out. The big push was for McDonalds. My brother has 3 small kids, and as most parents know, the big M is always a cheap and cheerful option. Did I crumble? Did my tummy go nuts when we walked past KFC? Did visions of Burger King dance in my head? You bet they did. Yours truly, however, walked on to Subway, and was rewarded with a 6 inch Italian cheese and herb with ham, turkey breast and every salad you can imagine. Worth waiting for!
Later when I came home, our temporary border had news of his departure. It would appear he found himself a flat. This is not certain he says, but is probably a sure thing. To celebrate he said we should have some cheese cake. I immediately denied his offer, of course, reminding him I was on a diet. House mate (totally unaccustomed to diets), said "stuff your diet! We're celebrating!". My very well trained excuse for eating centre in my brain went wild. There was echos of "of course" and "don't you see his very valid point", right down to the guilt trip of "poor guy has just come through a divorce and is getting back on his feet, celebrate with him and don't be so selfish!". I reacted by calling once again on my inner saint.
I decided at this point it would be safer for me upstairs, away from the evil treats of mankind. Got on my trusty 'My Fitness Pal' app, and logged my calories for the day.
Now you must know that since the house mate's purchase of the evil cheese cake, I have been saintly by pretending it was not there - that was 2 days ago. Yesterday I cut the smallest slice possible and took it to work for a midmorning snack. I ate this guilt free, as the slice was tiny, and I knew I had the calorie allowance for it.
I populated my food diary with my saintly foods, and finally added the cheese cake. To my absolute horror the horrible little beasty came in at 265 calories!
As many dieters will tell you, that is the ultimate excuse to blow your diet for the day. It's a case of everything is ruined anyway so I may as well just eat everything because I hate the world, and myself, and I don't care anymore.
Did I admit knowing the blessed little treasures in the kitchen downstairs? I did not! A third time I denied them.
My reward was not 3 pieces of silver, but a whopping 0.7kg weigh loss over night.
Do I hear a cock crowing some where?
Well done!!!!!
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