There was one downside to my vacation (well, besides that ridiculous sunburn). I had not yet mentioned this partly because I didn’t want to admit it to myself, and partly because weight can fluctuate so much from day to day, hour to hour.
I probably gained at least three to four pounds during my eight days in the islands. I’m now up around 196-197 lbs. again, which sucks, but the numbers themselves are meaningless. The real indicator is that my underwear has been difficult to slide on, and my favorite pair of tint-washed jeans is quite tight around the thighs. I don’t think thighs are normally a problem area for guys, but mine are kind of muscular already, so fat deposits on them really make jeans uncomfortable.
Healthy eating can be extremely difficult when one is away from one’s home environment, going to a restaurant for almost every meal, and eating socially on a daily basis.
Portion control is the toughest. You are paying $10 to $25 on average for a meal, and the servers accomodate you with monstrous heaping plates of delicious food that probably tip the scales at 3 to 4 thousand calories a pop. Wasting food is anathema to me, and “doggy bags” are a pain. Also, part of vacationing is indulging in new experiences, and cleaning one’s plate at an exotic eatery ranks among the most enjoyable of those experiences.
That Bowflex book that I have mentioned many times before offers some strategies for dining out, but they do not seem particularly realistic. Darden recommends that you not even open the menu at all, but instead make a special request to the waiter for an ungarnished green salad, steamed vegetables, and steamed (or broiled or baked) whitefish or chicken. Doing that would take more discipline than I have, plus it somewhat defeats the purpose of dining out in a new restaurant.
Oh well, all I can do now is return to my weight-training and my calorie counting with renewed focus. After all, I have a fifteen-year high school reunion in September.
