“My doctor told me I had to stop throwing intimate dinners for four unless there are three other people.” — Orson Welles
It’s the end of Week Four and we’re doing pretty well. I’m officially down 8 pounds and Victor is down 9. Not bad, at all.
I think the most interesting aspect of this entire thing is how good we both feel. Being the perennial cynic that I am, I have p’shaw’d people for the past 20 years saying how much better they felt after going to the gym – as if you could possibly feel better after having the crap beat out of you…
Mark it on your calendars, boys and girls… I was wrong. Again. I feel better after having the crap beat out of me. And the reason the crap is being beat out of us is because we’re paying a Personal Trainer to do it. There is absolutely no way on this Earth I would be doing this stuff if someone wasn’t standing over me telling me I only have to do that damn rep of 20 three more times – and then do it all over again on the other arm/leg. If I were on my own, I’d do a couple of reps and then eat a donut. The Trainer is making the difference.
I’m eating better. I have more energy. And this is after 4 weeks. The diet change has been ridiculously easy – almost scary-easy. I think the main reason is probably because we started feeling results right away – even though we purposely weren’t looking for them. And we didn’t dramatically change anything – we just started eating less – and switched out our nightly dessert for a bowl of fresh fruit. We’re not denying ourselves anything. We’re not on a diet. We’re simply eating smaller portions and paying better attention to what we eat.
We both used to have a bowl of candy by our chairs in the living room – Victor with gumdrops and me with any number of different things. They’re now both empty – and gone are those empty calories. There are chocolate bars in the cabinet if anyone wants one, but right now, we don’t seem to miss them.
We’re also not doing cheat days – because we’re not dieting and denying ourselves anything. We’re eating well – as is evidenced, here. I had a hot dog for lunch, today – on a roll. Bread – the dieters big no-no. I like bread a lot. I’m no longer eating it every night at dinner, but if I want a hot dog on a roll or a sandwich, I eat a hot dog on a roll or a sandwich. A hot dog. A sandwich. Circling right back to portion control.
Portion control. Cooking realistic amounts for two people and not preparing enough to feed the neighborhood. Something I’m still working on but getting better at – it’s only been 4 weeks, after all.
Our celebratory dinner tonight was a steak, an ear of corn, and potatoes that were first steamed, and then slightly smashed and fried in a bit of oil. The potatoes are really easy – and really tasty. The steaks were liberally doused with Penzeys Mitchell Street Steak Seasoning. The corn just boiled and spread with a bit of butter…
So bring on Week Five! We’re ready!