Yesterday I was faced with many difficult choices.
1. I could either eat perogies or choose a salad. I had both. But I did it using a logic so simple that it made my choice kosher even though it contained evil carbs.
I once read that if all you did was make sure 80% of your plate had high water content foods (or more), every meal would be nutritionally sound forever and you would never have to diet.
Just look at your plate and pretend it’s a clock. Then think ten o’clock. Your denser foods have to fit between those two hands. Simple.
Think about it. Tiny steak, big salad or... small piece of garlic bread, one spaghetti noodle, big salad or... two perogies, big salad! (And it doesn’t always have to be salad, I’m just not feeling creative).
And the reasoning behind it goes something like this:
If your body is 80% water, then the food you put in it should also be 80% water. Makes sense to me. But then again I’m not a nutritionist. I’m just lazy and this is easy to follow.
But no matter how many ways you try and apply this rule in such a way that you don’t break it but still cheat, you can’t (and trust me I’ve tried) because you have to use a regular sized plate.
And it works. So I’ll give it a shot because it takes virtually no planning and now I don’t have to figure out how to make a sandwich between two pieces of romaine lettuce. That always makes such a mess.
FYI - alcohol-based bevvies do NOT qualify as high-water content foods even if mixed with lemonade. Which brings me to my next dilemma...
2. I could either go to the gym or drink Mojitos with my stepmom. This was a much more difficult choice.
I knew I couldn’t do both because once I had a couple of Mojitos I wouldn’t feel like going the gym. I’d spend the afternoon reminiscing my favourite episodes of The Dog Whisperer, while dissecting his wisdom. Then I’d ponder how I could apply his methods in my future dealings with difficult human beings all the while wishing there was someone around I could practice on.
So I went to the gym.
In terms of difficulty (the decision, not the workout), I’d say it ranked as high as the concert at Woodstock. The workout itself? - about as hard as a soft-boiled egg.
But I was pleased.
I pranced around on that treadmill like I had more discipline than a Catholic priest at a camp for boys.
Wait, that’s not a good example.
Whatever.
The point is I made the right decision. And for the first time, I actually based the choice on whether it was going to move me forward or set me back in my goals.
It’s all about building self-esteem so you feel like you’ve earned the right to be whatever you want, no holds barred. The irony being of course, that no one has to earn that right, they are born with it.
But I’m not there yet. I still have a lot of work to do in that respect.
So when I falter, I can live with it but frankly, I just don’t want to anymore. And that, was a breakthrough.
As for that chapter I was suppose to finish...
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