I board the plane for St. Louie with a feeling of trepidation. For one, Im physically exhausted, so revving up for a week of sorority business at our biennial conference is going to be a challenge.
Just like last week, here I am again facing a week of travel that entails early mornings and late nights. Not a good setup for my entrance into a new health and fitness program where Im under pressure to show results.
Again, I pack fitness clothes, and this time, Im committed to doing SOMETHING that involves moving and sweating more than I usually do. Monday morning dawns and I try to devote a half hour before my first conference session at 8:30 to doing some of the squats and lunges that Tehera had me do last Friday.
Im a little shaky, and Im not sure that I was hard enough on myself in retrospect, but I did it. I manage to do some semblance of this routine on Wednesday as well. Im encouraged to see that theres a scale in the bathroom of my hotel, and I break a cardinal rule of mine that says, “Thou shalt not demoralize yourself by weighing yourself” by bravely stepping onto it after my shower.
I can only laugh to myself when I discover that the fancy digital scale doesnt work, so I weigh 0.0 pounds. I decide to go with that assessment, and proceed with my day. What I dont know, wont depress me.
Temptations abound regarding food and drink in this town. I learn quickly that here in the Midwest, people take their beef and alcohol very seriously. Im not normally a heavy consumer of red meat, so this should be a piece of cake, right? Wrong. Never have I craved steak and hamburgers so much! But I resist.
I try to stick to fish and veggie offerings and I try to eat small but frequent meals. Not so easy when youre going to (prepaid) luncheons and dinners that that offer the standard hotel lunch/dinner fare—except BEEF seems to be the dish that is offered at every single meal!
I pick and poke around the pot roast on a bed of field greens (WHAT?!!!), the inviting but off-limit beef burger sliders offered at every cafe, and the beef wellington that is the culminating banquet feast at the end of the conference. I keep my drinks to iced tea and club soda, which is actually quite nice.
And I rationalize that since the heat index is in the 112-degree range throughout most of the week, Ive had to have sweat off some unwanted poundage trying to get around the city in what felt like an inferno. I guess the impending weigh-in will tell.