Win Some, Lose Some

Ooooohhhhhhh, brother. The week started out so promising. The first few days were full of Denise Austin workouts and stationary bikes, and staying within my Weight Watchers points. Ah, the glory days. Then things started getting sketchy at girls night with my second helping of strawberry shortcake, but I was still tracking my points and maintaining balance. And then came vacation. BOOM! System meltdown!

So now I’m sitting at the airport, waiting for my plane back to Portland, and thinking about this week. The vacation didn’t start out on such a hot note; I showed up in San Diego sick as a fucking dog. I blame substitute teaching and all the kids whose sole purpose is to spread germs! Little ass-hats. So straight away I have no energy, and come on now, who can expect me to work out under these conditions!?!?! It’s just unreasonable! Thankfully I’m very brave and was able to drag myself out of bed the next day and make it to the beach, but just barely. It was kind of heroic, really. If you’d been there, you probably would have been inspired to move mountains.

So working out is not in the cards, and to top it off, we’re getting taken out to dinner and being force-fed home cooked meals. What was I supposed to do? Turn down these generous offerings? Say no to a second helping? That would have just been rude! I wasn’t raised in a barn! So, being the polite and awesome person that I am, I ate for the sake of others and didn’t enjoy a morsel. HA! Nah, to be honest, I ate more than I should have, but I did some damage control. I went to the grocery store and bought some Weight Watcher breakfasts and lunches so I could keep myself in check for at least part of the day. Dinner time, on the other hand, was a whole different ballgame. I like to think that I could have been worse. I stopped myself at two pieces of pizza when I could have easily eaten four. I ate half my cupcake instead of a whole one. OK, OK, I finished the other half ten minutes later, but there was a noticeable break! And, as I became less phlegm-filled, we started walking around more and trekking our asses around the zoo and along the coastline.

Even with my minimal efforts to stave off ballooning up like a hippopotamus, I’m fairly certain the scale promises to kick my ass when I get back tonight. They say that calories don’t count on vacation; unfortunately, I tend to treat my life like a vacation. I guess this week will be a reminder that my ass will get fatter, vacation or not. Am I going to let a few, calorie filled days on vacation turn into an excuse to stop following my goal? Fuck no! I’m going to get right back on the horse, even if that horse might buckle under my gargantuan behind. Here’s to a fresh start tomorrow.