Well, it was bound to happen. What's that, you ask? Last week, after two months, my life returned to its regularly scheduled insanity. I'd done a great job of managing to balance things in the way of work, life, social agenda, etc. with my new set of habits. Sure, I'd had my moments of both social and personal indulgence, but I always found a way to compensate with better food or an extra hour at the gym or whatever I could do to feel like I wasn't falling right back into my old habits.
This week, though, life ran me ragged. I only worked out four times. I've been working out five or six times per week, and know that's part of the plan for all of this to continue working.
I had a friend in town staying with me, a friend who also treated me to a meal at a three Michelin star restaurant (Per Se), one that could honestly be described as the most wonderful, luxurious, gluttonous meal I've ever indulged in. Ten courses, four hours, three different tasting wines, a glass of champagne…you get the idea. It occurred to me that THIS is what indulgence should be: Something you'll truly enjoy and appreciate, but dont do all the time.
While I'd like to say that that was the only time I indulged this week, I'd be lying if I did. A lot of the responsibility fell on me. I went to see U2 the next night without eating first, and dinner turned into a two light beers, a hot dog, and half a pretzel. On Saturday, I had to work late; the only food available was chicken fingers, mini quiches, and carrot sticks. This doesn't really count as a balanced dinner, but that's what I had.
And finally, finding my car missing—and assuming it had been towed—on Sunday morning when I needed to be at work within the hour caused me to miss breakfast. Fortunately, it turned out it hadn't been towed, but merely moved to another block in my neighborhood by the fine folks of the NYPD to make way for a street festival later that day.
Now in all of those instances, I succumbed to the least optimal/desirable options because I hadn't really planned in advance. (Except for the whole Sunday morning thing. Nobody plans to have their car towed and I simply forgot to grab something). I didn't carry healthy snacks or pieces of fruit or anything to hold me over. Surely I could've figured out a better option to eat at the concert, but I just walked to the closest concession stand.
At least the week is over, and I'm able to learn from my mistakes and the pitfalls I encountered. In light of everything that happened, I retook my measurements on Friday and discovered I'd lost another inch and a half off of my waist (bringing me to a two-inch loss) and whole three inches off of my thighs. It's those sorts of results that remind me that all of the work really IS paying off, and that if I keep it up, it's only going to get better.
Now if you'll excuse me, I have to go buy some real food at the grocery store. Cheers!