I never managed to get those two runs in this week.
A year ago I would have posted some garbage about how mad at myself I am. Some pity party. Whatever. I’m a grown ass man and I didn’t get it done. I get home at 8:30 and flat out don’t feel like it.
Quitting the gym must be kind of like quitting smoking. The first few weeks suck but afterwards it gets much more manageable. I don’t have any burning desire to go to the gym anymore. I just feel really tired when I get home.
Luckily, things seem to be working out with my diet. I haven’t had any bad eating days since I stopped logging everything on fitday. I imagine that I’m eating right around 2000 calories every day. I attribute that mostly to eating the same thing for lunch almost every single day. Also I’ve got a huge selection of protein bars that I carry with me.
I’ve got to give a lot of credit for my weight loss during this stretch to eating a lot of meals. I probably eat six or seven times a day. A lot of times they’ll only be 200 calories but that’s good enough. When I do that I don’t freak out when I’m forced into bad food situations. For the last two day we had pizza delivered to our office because the restaurants are closed on the weekends. Both days I ate a slice and a half but didn’t eat the crust. I only ate that much because that’s all I wanted. The pizza wasn’t THAT great. In the past I probably would have ate until I couldn’t eat anymore. It wouldn’t matter if the food was good or not. It was food so I ate until it hurt. That just seems stupid now. I knew that I could eat one of my protein bars whenever I wanted. They taste good. I wasn’t making any sacrifice.
I don’t want to make too big of a deal about the whole pizza thing but it really was a big deal to me. I haven’t eaten pizza since my wife and I went for my last “cheat meal” many months ago. My thinking on food has changed dramatically. I ate the first slice until there was nothing but the crust (it was the thick kind). I looked at it and thought, “I don’t like crust. I’ve never liked crust. Why in the world do I eat that stuff?” So I didn’t eat it. I still felt kind of hungry so I got a second slice. I ate about half of it and then looked at it again. I wasn’t hungry anymore. I started picking at it – moving the cheese around and watching the grease fall off of it. It started to look kind of gross. After staring at it for a few minutes I finally decided to throw it away.
That was probably the first time I ever did that. It felt very wasteful. I’ve always felt you should clean your plate. I don’t know that this idea was ever implanted in my head from childhood by anyone. It just always seemed like the right thing to do. If you’re going to take food you should eat it. Someone else might have wanted that slice. Now I feel like that mythical someone will just have to suffer. If I don’t want it all I’m not eating it all.
I don’t know. Maybe I’m just rambling because I’m tired but I still wanted to post something on my blog anyway. I feel like most people reading this will see this as the biggest non event in the history of blogging. That half a slice was probably 100 calories tops. Nothing to brag about. That’s not going to be the difference between weighing 350lbs and 200lbs. Still it felt kind of big because I wasn’t doing it as some kind of dietary punishment. I did it because I wanted to. Also, over the course of a few years, those thrown away calories might start adding up.