I am no stranger to the pre-vacation diet push. With somewhere around 8 weeks to go before we leave for Jamaica, my lifelong unsuccessful diet begins anew. For a week or so I’ll eat less and healthier and think about exercising. If it’s a good year, by week two I may start to move a bit more, perhaps get on the treadmill for a 15-minute test run. Usually if I can manage to get to this point, I’ll keep going. I maybe lose a couple, 5-10 pounds, but for me, that doesn’t even put a dimple in one of my chins, and believe me, my bathing suit readiness score is no better. I like to think that at least I have put myself in slightly better cardiovascular shape for the beach walking that I enjoy.
The week before we leave, I start to have a few cocktails to celebrate the packing process. Of course cocktails lead to a bit less careful food choices – not awful, but not exactly diet-worthy. Then the last few days before we leave we have to finish up the food in the fridge, so there’s a lot of little snacks to eat up. And at night, can’t be serving the family those little bits of leftovers, so we have to order pizza.
Then we’re at the airport and all bets are off. Despite my best efforts to plan ahead for sandwiches and snacks (and the obligatory fruit) for the plane, my husband always veers to the right just past security at JFK and heads into the bountiful buffet. There’s a huge banquette for every food type – hot food, cold food, sandwich bar, salad bar, dessert area, breakfast food – plenty of comfort for all those hours you are about to spend trapped in that airplane. We spend $40 of our vacation money before we even leave the ground. And I kick off day one of vacation with about 2500 calories, 3 days worth of fat and sodium, and we haven’t even boarded yet!
But lest you think that this is just another ramble on the plight of the weight-challenged – let me say this year was different. This year I lost 8 pounds in 2 weeks in Negril. I ate well, didn't feel denied, and loved every minute. And that is the genesis of this story – how I beat the odds, and triumphed over my nature. If anyone would have been voted least likely to be able to conquer my huge love of food and drink, it was I. I want to say “my love of food and fun” or “my joie de vivre” – but that’s the point – I’ve learned you don’t have to lose the fun, or the joy! Read on and I’ll tell you what I did.
Let's see how long it lasts....And by the way ~ it was a pizza night at my house tonight.
Originally Posted by rastagal
