Meatsuit Reroot – The Problem with Parties

Lets face it.  I have problems with self control.

Some of it isn’t my fault.  An early childhood full of a steady stream of sugar and no exercise, followed by a lifelong struggle against various factors forcing inactivity.  It’s not a great recipe for discipline or self-denial.  And yet, that’s only the background, and it is not an excuse.

This weekend was Mother’s Day weekend.  I happen to be married to a mother, so celebrations needed to happen.  As it turns out, I lucked into a fantastic day with the Mrs, and it turned out to be a lovely dinner only slightly marred by our toddler knocking things over and generally being two.

However, while I was there, I ate way more than I should.  Not a little more, a lot more.  I ate all sorts of very carb heavy breads, tons of sugary meals and drinks, and generally speaking went so far off diet it’s a little embarrassing.  What can I say?  I was having a blast.

I have that problem with my eating.  A tendency to go with the ‘flow’ of whatever is being served to me.  And I also clean my plate, hating to waste food on an almost instinctual level.  Part of that was my upbringing, where I was forced to clean my plate before leaving the table.  It’s never a good situation to be in, but my parents did an amazing job with the crap hand they were dealt.  I don’t blame them in the least.

So, I’m going to have to start planning my weeks around such days.  It’s okay if that day was my cheat day.  Buuuuut it wasn’t.  It was very much not my cheat day, and I very much cheated on it.  Blargh.  Moving forward, I will have to be cognizant of that fact, and plan accordingly.  The longer I try and do this correctly, the more I realize that the whole secret is found in the planning stage.

As far as exercise and sleep goes, I will knock both right out of the park today.  I slept for about an hour this morning before delivering tiny hooman to daycare.  Once secured, I slept the entire day away, rounding out a great sleep session of about nine hours.  I must start forcing myself to get at least seven and a half, but nine is the ideal.  I’m glad that I managed to sneak that one in, even if it did come at the cost of a productive, baby-free day.  Those are running out fast.

As far as exercise goes, I’ve looked up what the average person burns doing yard-work, and have added to that due to the sheer amount it’s behind, and my overall weight.  It is looking like I will burn a good six hundred to seven hundred calories just on that.  I am sitting here, writing this post, coated in sweat and still sweating from the work I’ve done so far.  Going to go ahead and pull a Babe Ruth, and point this one out of the park.  Do believe that’s the easiest gimme I will have as far as a good workout is concerned.

More to follow as the week goes on, and as always I will update you on all the pertinent details as the days rumble along.

Weight upon waking up: 257.2 (Muscles weigh more than fat, muscles weigh more than fat, muscles…)

Favorite food on diet: Peanut Butter Toast with Bananas and Honey. Total non-fructose, non-honey sugar: 4g (1g per slice, 1g per serving of peanut butter)

Days on diet: 1 (Wah wah waaaaahhhh)

Favorite diet moment: Being able to leave my wife’s slice of chocolate cake alone, sitting on top of the fridge, with nothing around it.  It’s literally sitting on an island, and I keep passing it by.  Boo ya.

Least favorite diet moment: That feeling when you eat sugary nonsense, knowing the pain and irritation and drowsiness that is to follow.  Post-Traumatic Sugar Disorder.  I got that one in spades yesterday.  Ugh.

Peanut-butterfully,
Justin