I’m a creature of habit. This is one of the things that made tracking my calories so easy the first time around. (NB: Not currently tracking calories. Don’t know if I will, I’m kind of winging this right now.) When you eat the same five things day after day, clicking the same button in Fitday doesn’t seem all that onerous.
Of course, walking 100 meters across the street and ordering a chicken caesar wrap with extra cheese, a bag of chips and a ginger beer was pretty easy, too. To the point that all I have to do is walk into the deli and nod my head, and they start assembling my usual without a word. Today, instead of crossing the street, I hung a left and kept going. For about 20 minutes.
To a new gourmet cheese shop that just opened downtown.
Like I said, a creature of habit. But after I sampled a lovely seven year-old gouda (they didn’t have any mimolette. No one ever has any mimolette, in part, as it was explained to me, because chiseling off a good chunk properly-aged mimolette is rather difficult to do without losing a limb. Who knew? Not me, since I normally just lift a chunk to my head and just start gnawing away, to hell with cutlery.)
Anyway, after letting the little hunk of gouda melt in my mouth, I forwent diving face-first into the cooler, and instead went upstairs to a little bistro. They’re not yet doing take-away salads(I did ask! Especially since both the featured salads included bacon…) , so I ended up with a sandwich (on an onion ficelle rather than baguette, in order not to stray too far from my imaginary south-beach inspired less-carbolicious eating plan), took a longer route back to the office, and picked up a little container of asparagus at another little take-out place I never knew existed.
Anyway, healthy walk, green vegetables, hunk o’ cheese, all in all a pretty good day. And now I have to sit on my couch and drink a glass of wine and watch other people get yelled at by scary sadistic trainers. Because I can totally justify Reality TV if there’s a chance I can pick up a fitness tip from Biggest Loser. Also, because it’s reality tv, and I’m a creature of habit.
[ETA: The annual calorie count scare tactics are a bit over the top. Food is not evil. Calories are necessary. You should not be shamed into crying over cookies on national tv. Again, struggling with the whole want-to-be-healthier vs. guilt-and-manipulation crap. Also, Neil is a punk.]
Mimolette! You know you’re the first person I’ve found who knows that cheese? It’s glorious.
Left by Rebecca on January 9th, 2008