Is it still a baker's dozen if there's no bread involved?

I kind of fell off the wagon last month.  After a month of low carb, and cravings, and deprivation.. yeah.  I hit the chocolate pretty hard.    Not the bread, surprisingly.  But hell yeah the chocolate.

The time has arrived to start being good again.  I've gone back on the straight and narrow, in the hopes of being a little more narrow myself.  I'm already as straight as I'm getting.

So, back to counting calories.  I'm not actually eating any differently, but I'm dutifully counting.  I wrote down all the easter candy, and the beer, and the shrimp - coconut milk - bok choy creation that JD made for dinner.  And my spinach salad for lunch.  It's all written down and accounted for.

Whose idea was it that writing it all down would work well?  Because it's kind of a pain in the ass.  I'm not a joiner, but Weight Watchers holds a certain appeal in that at least I'd not be typing all the time.  I guess you're still counting, but you're only counting up to 20 or something.  Not 1500.

Anyway, I'm doing that.  Counting.  And trying to eat lots of fruits and veggies.  Wait, let me count.. I had 14 different kinds of fruits and vegetables today.  Of course, many of them were in a salad.  But it still counts.  I'm claiming it.  I'm sure those 8 slices of radish have had some kind of huge nutritional impact, and soon I will be glowing.  Especially if they were farmed in southern MD, down near the nuclear plant.

I've been hitting the gym, too.  I need to tweak my timing.  The tail end of my routine keeps intersecting with the beginning of some class.  This means that I have to bug out of the nice, private, wood floored, mirrored room where I like to work out, and set myself up in the hallway next to the water fountain to finish my workout.  Not private.  Not serene.  You know?

I need to make more time in my day.  I've been giving myself 45 minutes at the gym, and that just isn't satisfying.  All the exercises take a finite amount of time.  I don't want to rush them, as I get less benefit from weights lifted quickly than weights lifted slowly. And some things just can't be rushed.  (Hold this 5 times for 10 seconds each can't really be reduced to less than 50 seconds.)  Perhaps I'll develop gumption and come in to work earlier.  Perhaps pigs will fly.

I'm not conflicted about whether or not I like french fries

I met Dr. M out at the farm this morning before work.  Pluto definitely seemed to be feeling better.  I can't tell you how I knew that, exactly.  It's not like he stretched his arms out and said "Man, am I ever feeling better!"  He just seemed more himself.  More interested in the world around him.

Except for the cough he gave after going back out into the field and rolling, that is.  If his cough doesn't completely go away, the doc has some horsey cough syrup for me to give him.  Here's hoping he gets all the way better without it, as I don't see dosing the horse with cough syrup as being a particularly fun activity.

It felt slightly weird to be back at the office today.  I had a slight sore throat of my own, but no fever and no trucks apparently ran me over last night, so it was a regular working day for me.  The last two days have been annoying.  I was home, the weather was beautiful, and I was too wiped out to go outside and seamseal my new tent.  What are the chances that I'm going to get another chance like that before the next time I want to use it (i.e., next weekend?)  I'd say slim to none.  Joe, the manufacturer, says he's seam sealed them his first night in camp when he hadn't had a chance to do so before leaving on a trip, but I don't see that working in early spring.  It'd be too cold for the goo to really set.  Plus there's always the possibility of rain.

The current forecast for next Saturday (here at home) is high of 72, low of 55, no precip.  Does that sound awesome or what?  Sounds like a beautiful day to be out and about.

Tomorrow, on the other hand, we have a forecasted high of 50.  And wind.  I think it will be a bit brisk as I head out on my hike.  If I head out on my hike.  My foot is talking back a little.

I'm struggling a little bit with the low carb diet.  I've cheated a bit. Today, for instance, the boss brought in hamantaschen.  I contemplated turning that down for about half a second.  And on Wednesday, when I was home sick, JD brought burgers and fries home for dinner.  I also did not argue with that.  (You're sick, he said.  You need the energy.)  So, not so much with the strictness.  I'm trying to convince myself to keep going, as my regular dieting strategies haven't worked at all (in the last year or so), and this has.   But I'm definitely missing some of my regular foods.  Not all of them.  Toast?  Eh.  Rice?  Skip it.  French fries?  Step away from my french fries and you won't get hurt.

So you could say I'm a little conflicted.

Coming soon: An Ode to Donut Day

Today started week four of physical therapy.  Today's exercises were mostly the same as last Thursday's, except they felt easier.  I continue to be amazed at how the human body (in this case mine) works.  One time!  It takes one time for a hard exercise to become easy.  Wacky.

Of course, I'm not saying that I don't hurt afterward.  I hurt.  Which is why I'm there in the first place.  It generally hurts when I do things, and now I'm doing things twice a week.  I have to have faith that with some work it will get better.

I like to think that one of my nicer attributes is that I'm not afraid to work.  I don't mind hard work if there is a suitable reward at the end.  I don't mind waiting a long time for that reward, as long as I know it's there.  I'm doing all the exercises with a smile on my face, because I know that I'm working toward a goal.  And I'm trying to pay attention to what I'm doing so that later, when I'm on my own, I can do the exercises for maintenance.

However, in the meantime, I'm kind of sore.  I need to find my Icy Hot.

I stopped by the farm to check in on Pluto this evening.  It was daylight!  Kinda!  It felt fantastic to leave work with the sun still up.  It made me smile all over.  I took a walk today, too, and that was similarly awesome.  But back to Pluto.. he's holding his own.  His weight loss has definitely halted.  He isn't gaining, but that's okay.  He'll pork up when the grass comes in.  I don't want to cram grain down his throat (not that he is objecting) and potentially run into metabolic issues.  Assuming he holds steady, I think we're in a good place, food and hay-wise.

I'm thinking I'm also going to stop cramming grain down my own throat.  When I got back from the trail and started seeing a naturopath, she had me refrain from a lot of things, including processed carbohydrates.  No baguettes, no french fries.  Like that. And I felt pretty good.  I've gotten out of that habit, and I think I want to get back into it.  Right now I'm trying to remember what all it involved, and making some grocery / meal / snack lists.

Donut Day is going to be the hardest.  Alas, Apple Fritter, I hardly knew ye.

Somebody please help me step away from the refrigerator

Oh good lord.  I'm pretty sure I just undid the effects of all the dieting of the week.  This is what happens when I'm home alone.

I remembered, just in time, that I was up an hour so I could leave early today.  I got home mid afternoon.  What to do?  I remembered that there was a Fat Tire in the fridge.  Mmmmm tasty beer.  I opened the fridge, and I noticed the bacon.  Mmmm tasty bacon.  So I had a beer and a slice of turkey bacon.

The problem is that after the beer my inhibitions were lowered.

After that, I had a little bag of Doritos.  And another beer (vanilla porter, this time).  Uh oh.

I think I ate a slice of pizza.  And a couple of slices of pickles.  And then, virtuously, some sliced up .. um.. what are those things called? That are crunchy?  Celery.  Yeah.  Celery.

Then I decided it would be good if I left the vicinity of the kitchen.

I went and watched a documentary about Herman Mudgett, AKA HH Holmes, America's first serial killer.  A cheerful film, appropriate to the season.

Then, unfortunately, I wandered toward the back of the house again.  I got some lemon lime seltzer water out of the fridge.  And some lemon sorbet.  And then a blueberry pancake.

I'm going to have to go to bed early or there isn't going to be any food left when JD gets home.

I was thinking that the weekend would be a brief reintroduction to bachelor life, but when I lived alone?  I never had this much food in the house.  It is hard to make a pig of yourself with a box of Cheerios, some spoiled milk, and a half full bottle of ketchup.  But when your everloving husband has left most of a pizza, two quarts of blueberry pancakes, several liquid quarts of beer, and I don't know what else but the fridge is full?  It is easy to make a pig of yourself.

Wish me luck on eating healthy tomorrow.  But save your breath on Sunday, because I'm going to the Renaissance Festival.  I'm going to wear a wench outfit (without the stupid squeezy bodice, but don't worry, I'll be covered).  I'm going to drink beer and leer at men in tights.  And there is a very good chance that I'm going to eat something on a stick.