Thursday, January 30, 2014

The hardest part

One of the most difficult things about restricting is how to handle it when things don't go the way you plan. 
Husband was home before me tonight (because I was blasting hill sprints at the gym) and offered to make spaghetti and meatballs for dinner. I said sure. 

Spaghetti and meatballs is very filling so I can easily get away with eating a small amount. Husband never questions it. And since I burned 430 Cals at the gym, and had hardly eaten earlier, I figured it would be fine. Shortly after getting out of the shower however, it occurred to me that Husband is probably like most cooks and is putting oil on the spaghetti. I never put oil on the spaghetti! It's an easy way to keep the calories down. 
I raced downstairs, hoping he hadn't drained the spaghetti yet (but knowing realistically he probably had) and there it was. Sitting in all it's oily filth. I felt completely panicked. I tried to calmly express that I don't usually put oil on the spaghetti, even though on the inside, I was screaming. I told Husband that when I put oil on it, the sauce slides off the noodles too easily and you don't get the right flavor (which is true, I prefer it without the oil for that reason as well).
Thinking the damage had been done and feeling like I wanted to cry, I began to dish the pasta out onto our plates. Fortunately, it occurred to me at the last minute, I could rinse the pasta, and hopefully eliminate at least SOME of the oil. So, I put my portion back in the pot, ran the tap water as hot as possible and rinsed/drained the spaghetti a handful of times until it at least didn't look quite so shiny, the whole time, fantasizing about washing the noodles with soap, because that's the only way I was going to properly get the oil off. 

So my intake for the day is 742
Output at the gym was 430

Net: 312

Would've been less without the oil. But I can live with it.

I'm hoping I've run up enough of a deficit this week to not do too much damage tomorrow. I already anticipate a small argument with a friend of mine. A bunch of us are getting together for a girls night, and I know 90% of the girls could not care less what I order at the restaurant, but I know one woman will (and I do say woman because she's 33 years old, even though she acts 16). We'll call her J. She's thinks she always has to be the prettiest/smartest/thinnest/best person around, and she is very much intimidated by me because I am younger, and smarter than she is and we are about the same size (although I am working on changing that).
There is even a new woman joining our group, who is J's age, but prettier and thinner and J is constantly making up things about her being dumb or something, just to make herself feel better. It drives me crazy. Just leave the girl alone. Putting other people down doesn't make you any better. 
But anyway, J has been on a diet (actually a diet competition with her husband and two of their friends, because that's the only way she can accomplish anything, if she's competing with some one) and in her head, she's competing with me too. We were at a baby shower this month and when every one got up to get cheesecake and punch, I was pleasantly in the middle of a conversation with some one else, so I didn't get up. She pulled her diet Pepsi out of her purse, started sipping on it, and INTERRUPTED my conversation to say "Hey, go get your cheesecake!"
Subtle, J. Real subtle. 

Anyway, we are going out tomorrow night, and my plan is to find what appears to be the lowest calorie thing on the menu and not finish it, but I KNOW J is going to make a big deal out of it. But I'm not giving in. I'm not going to eat fattening food just to make her happy. Although there is a small part of me that wants to order something fattening, just to eat it in front of her. But I'm not thin enough for that. I have to stay on track a while longer before I can pull anything like that. Instead if she says anything, I plan to make a big deal about how I am a big girl and I can make my own dinner decisions, I don't need her input. She'll be mad. But she can deal.

2 comments:

  1. People like that are ridiculous. And bringing your own soda to a baby shower? Classy. Real classy. She sounds like a peach. :) lol

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