Week Two
Hello, and welcome to week two!
My first week of not dieting or exercising went really well. I didn't cheat at all.
But for some reason, I also didn't overeat nearly as much as usual. And in fact, I exercised almost every day, though not in any kind of militaristic or masochistic fashion. Just walking the dog for the most part.
Strangely enough, the week I decided to start this -- whatever it is -- my non-diet, I guess -- was one of the most social weeks I've had in ages. A bad day at work necessitated a happy hour with the girls on Wednesday. Thursday, one of my best friends was in town for the day, so we met for dinner and drinks. And then I spent the weekend in New York where I could hardly keep up with myself: lunch in Chelsea, then tea in midtown, then a 40th birthday party for a high school friend in Times Square, followed the next day by brunch on the Upper West Side. This was no small feat for JoJo. (If you know me, you know that I'm typically in bed by 9:00, and drinks after work once a month is pushing it for me.)
So you'd think that might have thrown a wrench into the works. All that wine, all those excuses to indulge. And I did indulge (pumpkin french toast with pear and cranberry compote, anyone?). But - I found myself easing off after one helping. I found myself noticing that I was full. I found myself quitting while I was ahead. Not out of self-control or will-power. Not really by any kind of planning or decision making. It just was what it was. I was full, so I stopped eating. Not every day. Not at every meal. But sometimes.
This, my friends, is progress. (Sad, but true.)
The next big step I'm contemplating is scaring the bejeezus out of me. I'm thinking of posting the actual number. My weight. I mean, if I'm gonna go public, I might as well go all the way. And that way you can all root me on.
But I'm not quite that brave yet. Maybe tomorrow.
My first week of not dieting or exercising went really well. I didn't cheat at all.
But for some reason, I also didn't overeat nearly as much as usual. And in fact, I exercised almost every day, though not in any kind of militaristic or masochistic fashion. Just walking the dog for the most part.
Strangely enough, the week I decided to start this -- whatever it is -- my non-diet, I guess -- was one of the most social weeks I've had in ages. A bad day at work necessitated a happy hour with the girls on Wednesday. Thursday, one of my best friends was in town for the day, so we met for dinner and drinks. And then I spent the weekend in New York where I could hardly keep up with myself: lunch in Chelsea, then tea in midtown, then a 40th birthday party for a high school friend in Times Square, followed the next day by brunch on the Upper West Side. This was no small feat for JoJo. (If you know me, you know that I'm typically in bed by 9:00, and drinks after work once a month is pushing it for me.)
So you'd think that might have thrown a wrench into the works. All that wine, all those excuses to indulge. And I did indulge (pumpkin french toast with pear and cranberry compote, anyone?). But - I found myself easing off after one helping. I found myself noticing that I was full. I found myself quitting while I was ahead. Not out of self-control or will-power. Not really by any kind of planning or decision making. It just was what it was. I was full, so I stopped eating. Not every day. Not at every meal. But sometimes.
This, my friends, is progress. (Sad, but true.)
The next big step I'm contemplating is scaring the bejeezus out of me. I'm thinking of posting the actual number. My weight. I mean, if I'm gonna go public, I might as well go all the way. And that way you can all root me on.
But I'm not quite that brave yet. Maybe tomorrow.
posted by jolott at
9:51 PM
2 Comments:
Also, take measurements, as those will spur you on when/if the scale doesn't budge.
By
Gina, at 1:35 PM
I'll tell you mine in the spirit of safety in numbers (pun intended). I'll give you a hint: I'm part of the downfall of America.
By
Jordan, at 5:06 PM
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