Take yesterday, I got up, rode to work, showered, and then ate a bagel with about a tablespoon of cream cheese and drank some Rooibos tea.
For lunch I had pb&j on wheat and a cup of OJ.
By the way, orange juice is my new favorite sports drink. It's full of electrolytes and such. And I've finally gotten used to the taste. Long story.
Anyway, the afternoons are hard. Around 2-3 o'clocks I start getting peckish. Or as I like to call it: ravenous enough to eat my own feet. My cubicle walls, while still looking grotesque, take on an almost cake-ish pallor. Yummmmgg...gag!
By then the cafeteria and coffee kiosk are closed and only the vending machines can provide the sustenance I need. So sometime I hit D3 and A5. Then I head for the elevator with my 500 calories cinnamon roll and my 240 calorie Coke.
I'm sure my mother is proud. Here's an email I got from her:
I'm so proud of you!
Okay, so that was in regards to something completely different, but still.
Dinner was questionable last night. We decided on turkey, bacon and avocado sandwiches. While we were waiting for the bacon to cook (MMMMMM!!! BACON!!!) I ate a quarter of a loaf of French bread. Then I had a second sandwich after I should have stopped. And a ginger ale. And I wanted more.
In my defense I probably needed the calories. I destroyed four Strava segments on the way home, getting my third best on one and a personal record on three others while also advancing to 5th out of 300 on the 4.6 mile stretch of the Clear Creek Trail between Ford St. in Golden and I-70. I pulled that off after having to backtrack two miles to find my phone. It had fallen off my bike in its mount. Luckily I found it and it hadn't been run over by a car.
Back to this fitness thing...I want to be sub-180 lbs by thanksgiving and sub-170 by next August. It shouldn't be that hard. I'm not deluding myself any longer. I used to dismiss my weight and tell myself that 185 isn't a bad weight for a 5'9" 37 year old male. I'm active. I maintain my weight between 188 and 198 most of the time. Heck, I rode 5,100 miles on my bike last year. How can my weight be a problem?
Well, I eat like a pirhanic horse. Y'know, a horse that eats like a...never mind!
I've never been one to obsess over my weight, but I've also spent a good many years as the guy that could eat whatever he wanted and stay thin. I'm not that guy anymore. Old habits die hard.
I'm not that guy, but I am a guy that now has specific performance goals. And I'm a guy that has finally realized that staying in shape is important for a lot of reasons; the least of which might be that if I'm in shape I can go out and enjoy myself at will, instead of having to come up with a six month plan to get in shape enough to execute my latest scheme.
I can be as fit as I want. I just have to give up the Oreos. Or, as Fatty says:
"So were the Oreos worth being fat and slow?"
What is most important: food or fun?