Monday, February 24, 2014

Game On

There's nothing I love more than a good challenge...except maybe really lovely, dark, decadent chocolate. Onward.

But I also love to be right. (Thereby humiliating the naysayer.  Of course, I would never say "I told you so.") The problem with being trained by He-who-trains is that I am almost never the right one.  He reads people and situations really well, and he knows it.  He predicts things with infuriating accuracy.

For the last few months I've been plateaued, and I've sworn to him (certainly not at him...that would be a rude thing to do outloud) that I was doing what he said.  I've been busting it at the gym.  I've been eating 1500 calories with 40% protein, 40% carbs, and 20% healthy fat.  And I have.  Except when I haven't.  He has been very helpful to point out to me that I do really well for a few weeks or even a month or two, and then I completely sit on and obliterate the wagon.  That's probably worse than just falling off of it?  I played loosey goosey with my eating when I got sick. I went all willey nilley with it when I went on the cruise.  He pointed out that I've never made it more than three months without taking matters into my own hands.  He also felt inclined to mention the fact that I'd set a thirty year precedent, and that a body wasn't going to realize my lifestyle was the new norm in just a few months of good behavior.

I'm tired of getting that lecture. I'm tired of proving him right.  So I opened my big mouth and told him I would make it six months with no major mess ups.  I'm allowed a cheat meal a week, and he really understands that life gets nuts-o sometimes, so a day or two of bending the eating commandments won't mess up my streak. But I'm not going to do things where I go crazy for a week. (uhem. for weeks.) I'm going to eat consistently well, using his guidelines.  I'm going to survive lent and beach week without blowing it. I've already started sending him food logs again (blessed, blessed food logs.  Gosh, I love doing those.  Really.) I'm tracking everything that goes in my mouth.

And from March 1- August 30... I'm gonna be St Kim: Patron Saint of People who are On It.

Come September 1st, He-who-trains is gonna shut his pie hole.  (And after 6 months of saintly eating, I might put pie in my pie hole :-P).  He is only going to open his mouth to say "I was wrong. You were right."

Game on.