Falling Down

My friend V had a blog post last week about learning to be honest with herself. She talked about taking responsibility for the state of your life. It is not everyone else's fault that you are fat. You made choices on your own. And since I am constantly trying to get the concept of choices and cause and effect through my son's head, I suppose I should do as I say.

Sunday, I made bad choices. You see, on Saturdays, we hang out with some friends, play World of Warcraft or tabletop games of RIFT or whatever appeals to us that week, and we eat. Chips, ice cream, brownies, cheesecake, sausage, cheese, crackers, Topo, peanut butter pretzels, steak, chicken, wings, potatoes, and lots of spicy foods. I do NOT track calories that day because it's what I call my free day. And usually, I spend Sundays playing it chill and eating less to make up for the binge. I figure I accomplish two things -- I never really feel like I can't have something and I learn to appreciate delayed gratification.

Sunday was, however, Super Bowl Sunday. And I helped talk a good friend into hosting the usual suspects at his house to watch the game. And eat. Which normally isn't so bad because his wife always has something veggie and healthy. And I bring a dessert to share and leave it at that. But this party was last minute, and my friend had no plans to really cook, so we were all going to bring stuff. I was supposed to bring pigs in a blanket, which are bad enough, but I snoozed on making them, and ending up bring a cheese and cracker tray... and TWO BAGS OF DORITOS.

This decision may not seem all that unusual for most people. But you have to understand a couple of problems -- this particular group of friends is not really big on junk food, and particularly Doritos have been sort of excised from back in their hard core coding/release days. And Doritos are probably the single worst trigger food I have. (Baked chocolate goodies take a close second, but I eventually tired of eating those).

So not only did I bring a junk food that no one else would actually eat, I brought one that I would eat all of. And I did. Not at the party, but later that night, when we got home, I finished the bag of corn chips. And then started in on the nacho cheese ones the next night.

Of course, I have felt like crap since Sunday night -- tired, sluggish, a little sick to my stomach. But I couldn't stop. I fell off the wagon and landed face first in glorious, tasty orange dust. I even went to McDonald's last night after my mid-term. And no, I did not choose a grilled chicken salad.

After all of that, I learned something. I have to be honest with myself. I knew that buying those chips was a bad idea, and I did it anyway, using the party as an excuse. And I have to stop making excuses.

Today, I had a salad for lunch. I had a salad and lean steak for dinner. I tried out my new Zumba DVD and got sweaty. I think I am catching up to the wagon and may be able to climb back on. But I cannot face the scale until I am back under control because I just do not need to know the damage. I know it's there, but I would rather not quantify it.

More salads, please!