I spent a weekend at home (as in where I grew up, not my domicile) over the Easter holiday. Sounds innocent enough, right?
Until you find out where home is: the great state of Louisiana.
That's right, where excess is more than a word, it's a lifestyle. They eat too much. Drink too much. Party too much. Eat a little more. Drink a little more. Smoke them if they've got them. Then they wake up in the morning (or early afternoon), fix a Bloody Mary and start all over again. Length of life vs. quality of life really isn't much of a debate in Louisiana: skinny and sober is no way to go through life.
And while I tend to agree with that little nugget of wisdom, I left Texas with a steel resolve not to let the weekend get the better of me. Avoiding a stop at McDonald's for the kids on the way out of town was a step in the right direction. Unfortunately, that's about all that went well.
I overate Friday at dinner. Overdrank Friday night. Ate my body weight in crawfish, potatoes, corn and sausage on Saturday. Ate deviled eggs and birthday cake at a party later that evening (God that sounds disgusting). Overdrank again Saturday night. Ate two plates of lunch on Easter Sunday. Stole a couple of handfuls of candy from the kids baskets. And the cherry on top: stopped at a Mexican restaurant on the way back into town!?!
Needless to say, I broke several "Steps" on the Rehab Diet, and as much as I'd like to blame the state itself, or my food-centric family or some deep-seeded psychological issue from my upbringing - it was all me. Just big, beautiful me.
Most discouraging of all was that even when faced with what should have been a perfectly reasonable meal, I ended up over doing it. BBQ chicken and a lump of potato salad doesn't have to be a deal breaker. Refilling the plate three times does.
So was this the inevitable binge certain skinny people warn against? Maybe, although I think it further illustrates my point that simply eating less from a table piled with bad food is incredibly hard to do. Hell, just eating less period is hard enough for the fat person, much less when faced with the temptation of something that is less than ideal. I'm sure I'm not the only fatty whose mind fires off signals that once the seal has been broken, I might as well go "all in." Knowing this about myself, cutting out the foods that plague me altogether seems like the best course of action.
But I realize avoiding contact with these foods is not a reasonable long term option. Holidays. Parties. Vacations. Restaurants. At some point they'll rear their ugly heads. And while ultimately my goal is not to deny myself an occasional pleasure, I've got to get my brain wrapped around the idea of moderation.
I've got all or nothing down pat. Its the middle that's a bitch.
2 comments:
Don't beat yourself up so much. I say if you are 200 miles from your house, all bets are off! What happens in Louisiana stays in Louisiana. Would you go to New Orleans and not indulge in a Lucky Dog or four? I think not. And for God's sake, it is CRAWFISH season!! I hope you had a few beers as well.
Your increased activity level (exercise=muscle) will continue to pay off in terms of damage control after out-of-control binges. In defense of your birth state, I must add, though, the chair does scoot both ways, and I doubt anyone strapped you down! Since I've never conquered the "all or nothing" dilemma myself, I say cut yourself some slack...you got back on the bus.
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