Croissants. Lobster salad. Cheetos (puffed, never crunchy). Red Wine. Potato pancakes. Banana cream pie. Moonfish stuffed with crab. Weird purple dinner rolls. White wine. Island chicken and mashed potatoes. Part of a cheeseburger and way too many chili cheese fries. Rasberry Milanos. Omelettes. Potato chips. Twizzlers. Margaritas. Ginger snaps. A deep-fried side of breaded beef.
Okay, I didn't eat a side of breaded beef in Hawaii (which is a really gross thing to have written), but I most definitely inhaled everything else on that list (you try counting points at a place called "Cheeseburger in Paradise," or sitting next to a kid in the car who's eating the puffy kind of Cheetos).
As a result, I didn't even want to go to my weigh-in today. I wanted another week to make up for my cullinary crimes. Unfortunately, George had forewarned that if I wimped out, he'd leave a snarky comment.
And so, I went.
As usual, there were the Wednesday Morning Rituals to cycle through. When you're dealing in ounces, these things matter. Said rituals include the following:
1. Eat nothing prior to 9:30 weigh-in.
2. Wear linen pants and linen shirt (the lightest clothes I own) and nothing else (for propriety's sake, I wear a jacket that's taken off at the moment of the weigh-in and then put back on).
3. Drink a nonfat latte as early as possible to make sure that ... well ... let's just say it cleans out the system.
5. Check that I am wearing no jewelry.
6. Remove clogs before stepping on scale (no socks).
7. Go to the bathroom down the hall from the meeting minutes before weigh-in (just to make sure the latte is gone).
8. Do not shower or wash hair on weigh-in morning.
Needless to say, I'm looking mighty hot by the time I step on the scale.
When I walked into the little weigh-in room this morning, I shook my head sadly. "This is gonna be ugly," I said to Regina, who runs the scales. "It's gonna hurt." I took a deep breath, stepped up, and couldn't believe it when I'd actually lost half a pound. Talk about shock.
"Funny how exercise actually works," George said dryly when I saw him later this afternoon. An obnoxious comment? Yes. But it's true. In Hawaii, I was constantly swimming or walking or hiking or just plain moving.
The answer, then, is clear.
I need to move to Hawaii.
1 comment:
Is it not sinking into that incredibly obstinate head of yours that it IS possible to be able to have your cake and eat it too!
This past week is absolute proof that you can eat what you want (in moderation) with a little bit of exercise. the E word.
Karen probably has on her 'charlie brown ears' right now and she is hearing "whaaa whaaa whaa whaa wwwhaaa" -mk
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