Yup. Totally going there…
Love the plan. In theory. Realistically, probably won’t quite cut the mustard.
With my new Man-imposed running hiatus, I have to pay attention now more than ever to what I’m shoveling down my yap. I tend to start pushing maximum capacity when I’m not running. So together with my partners in crime: Rae – who, coincidentally, joined the ranks of the married peoples this weekend (yippee!!!!), Princess Lisa, Nicole, and Kellie – we are TAKING CHARGE of our fat cells. Or at least that’s what we’re telling them. Stubborn little buggers.
So it’s a new day in the Black Dog House. The days of chowing down on everything in sight because I would just run it off anyway are long gone. No more double scoops of Moose Tracks, one more mini peanut butter cup, overindulging in cupcakes, or second glasses of wine. Did I mention these are on the no-fly list too?
Kill. Me. Now.
BUT, this is a necessary step in the evolutionary process that is my fitness journey. Don’t get me wrong, I can work up a pretty good sweatfest on a bike or power walk with the best of them. Maybe not quite Leo style, but I can wear out the Wonder Mutt after about a mile or so. However, let’s not kid ourselves – nothing works quite as magically in the battle of the bulge as running does. At least not for these stubborn, fat-loving genes.
So back to the Weight Watchers way of life and Monday morning weigh-ins. I figure that’s the best way to keep you on the straight and narrow during the weekend. Except when the hubby says, “let’s make pizza on the Big Green Egg this weekend.” Who can say no to beautiful creations like this?
So as I sit here daydreaming about the amazing grilled wonder of delight we had for lunch today, and scarf down a bowl of Moose Tracks laced with birthday/wedding/Half Marathon PR/Decorated Christmas Tree cupcakes – because what kind of friend would I be if I didn’t virtually celebrate these momentous occasions – I have to formulate a game plan. So here it is:
1. Eat less crap.
Yeah. That’s pretty much it. I can probably stand to get the dupa to the gym more as well. I just don’t want to go there too much. I go too often, I inevitably end up getting annoyed with someone, and my little hour of sweaty, heart-pumping bliss becomes a hellacious nightmare of barely controlled insanity. Due to the likes of the guy who insists on doing arm circles on the recumbent bike next to me and barely missing taking out the left side of my skull, or the woman who REALLY needs to try a stronger deodorant. REALLY.
So if there’s any magical weight-loss/smaller-jean-size pixie dust out there in the great void, please feel free to float this way. Or north. Way, way, WAY north. Anywhere between the east coast and the frozen Canadian Tundra will work. Thanks. Appreciate it.
Enjoy the ride.
Anyone taking on a new eating challenge? Do you find the irony in the timing of me trying not to eat all the crap at this particular time of year? How do you keep your weight under control if you can’t run? Do you think the fact that Moose Tracks is the world’s most perfect ice cream is a conspiracy?