A (wo)man with a plan...

So, one week down of being on it meal plans.  I wasn't perfect, but I learned some things:  If I'm gonna join a local civic club, I'm gonna have to pack my lunch.  (The fare at the fete I attended: sandwiches with deli meat, mayo based potato salad, potato chips and cookies. Pretty much nothing I normally eat.  But I'll just remind myself what I've learned to say in the past year and a half-- that I don't go for the food.) I also figured out that I don't have to eat exactly what I had planned on any given day, as long as over the week, I eat the daily plans.  So... I have a menu of fairly standard lunches... all I have to do is pick the dinner that goes with the lunch.  (Breakfast and snacks stay pretty much the same.) That's easy.  I also realized that I feel about meal plans a little bit like I felt about standardized dress in high school: that contrary to popular belief or what would seem to make sense, it actually makes things a lot easier.  I chop vegetables once or twice a week, and cook staples like chicken breasts and pork chops.  From there, my "blrrgh...dinner again?" delimma is solved. And using myfitnesspal, I can duplicate meals (and it does the math for me!) so the planning part isn't even as complicated as I thought it would be.

I'm still losing weight, and I was cleared by He-who-adjusts to resume lifting again.  I've felt pretty good, and my energy level is starting to go up. My cravings for sugary foods have almost disappeared. (Which must mean I've finally gotten my protein levels back up to where they need to be.) I'm optimistic that getting away from gluten is doing good things for my body. I'm eating good food that I love, and getting farther and farther away from processed food. This feels like a win.

Cool moment of the week: When I walked back into the gym for the first time in two weeks, one of the other trainers saw me and immediately said "Wow! You look like you've dropped ten pounds!" And I smiled and said, "well... pretty close." Not cool moment of the week: spending all of Sunday morning (while I was trying to preach) hoping my pants didn't fall right off. Time to go shopping!