Week two, you guys. That means were going on our THIRD week of this whole thing and I kinda can't believe it. If I could only tell you how many times Mr. T and I have tried to get a handle on our eating and exercise and how many times we've failed. I am so incredibly proud of us. And I know, I know. It's only been a couple of weeks, but that's an amount f time, damn it, and I'm determined to pat myself (well, ourselves) on the back.
So I'm officially down 12.1 pounds and I'm pretty excited about that. I don't always expect to see results like that and I still remind myself that it's just a number on the scale, but it's nice to see progress. I can't wait for the day where I can buy clothes that are smaller.
Also, can we all just celebrate the fact that Mr. T and I did not eat all of the tacos at his work event. OK, technically there were no tacos left when we arrived (apparently we still think we live in NYC where everyone is fashionably late). But normally we would have still ordered out or been lazy and grabbed some fast food on the way home. Instead we socialized and then came home and cooked up some leftovers. If not eating all of the tacos isn't progress then I don't know what is.
I also haven't had meat in two weeks. And, honestly, I don't miss it. It's weird because I honestly didn't plan on going full veg (I'll explain more about my vegetarian diet in a later post). The plan was just to greatly reduce how much meat we were eating. But I find I really like going sans meat. It's opened up my world to a ton of new (and really easy recipes). And I love that I'm not throwing produce away.
The weirdest thing is the effect this has had on my whole world. It's so hard to describe, but I feel so much better. Not just physically, but mentally, emotionally, everything. I don't feel so sad. I don't feel so critical of myself. It's so weird. I just find that I'm loving things more. I guess that's what happens when you start to love yourself again - you start to love every damn thing in life again.
It's like I don't even know myself anymore, you guys. In a really weird and good way.
Food is still a struggle. But I think it will be for a while. I mean, I'm basically relearning how to cook.
And food consumed my whole life before. I never even really realized how big of a part food played in my world. I ate my feelings. If something good happened, we celebrated with food. If something bad happened, we mourned with food. Food was the center of so many things. I seriously can remember sitting on the couch after dinner and just obsessing over the ice cream we were about to have. Thinking about that me really makes me feel pretty sad. And it's no wonder why I felt the way I did.
Now it's different. We still can celebrate with food (totes making some black bean stuffed peppers to celebrate Mr. T's first day of classes tonight), but I find myself thinking of other ways to celebrate things.
What I realized is that I have to get away from my normal mentality about food. I grew up on the idea that a meal should consist of a main (usually a meat), a hearty side (usually a potato or a bread), and a side of veggies. So I tend to feel weird if I just have a sandwich for lunch or if we just eat a veggie casserole for dinner. My plate feels incomplete. But trying to put so much into a meal also makes things really overwhelming and complicated. So I'm working on retraining my brain.
And it's good because last week I was totally freaking out because I was feeling so bored of salad. I LOVE salad and we're eating so many more things than that, but we eat it as a side a lot. And last week I found myself wanting anything other than a salad. And that's how it starts. You want something else, but can't and so you give in. Before you know it you've eaten your weight in cheese and you're en route to get more. But I realized meals can be whatever I want them to be and if the thought of eating another salad makes me want to puke, I can have something else on the side or no side.
I'll get there. I hope. No, I WILL. I WILL get there.
I still really freak out about how this is all going to go when we entertain or visit family and friends. Especially now that we're avoiding meat almost entirely. But luckily Mr. T is sane and reminds me that we'll figure it out.
I feel good though, you guys. Really, really good. And I'm determined to kick the crap out of week 3.