Stop me if you’ve heard this one:
A man walks into a bar and says, “I’m trying to eat well. Whaddaya got for me?”
The bartender looks at the man and says, “Ha ha ha. Nothin’. This is a BAR, buddy. We don’t serve your type around here.”
And the man has chicken fingers, fries and a beer and feels bad about it the rest of the day.
The meal must have messed up my body—er, I mean, the man’s body—because I had hiccups for two solid hours right afterward, and for another hour before bed. I don’t get hiccups very often, and especially not for so long, so my body was clearly trying to tell me something about what I’d done. Via involuntary spasms.
In the first week of my weight-loss program I had done so well in the protective bubble that is fixing my own meals that I’d forgotten how easy it is to totally lose it while eating out. Sure, I probably could have found a reasonably sensible alternative to chicken fingers, fries and a beer, but what fun is that when you’re out with friends?
Instead, I realized that one slip wouldn’t derail me and destroy all the progress I’d made.
And how’s this for a baby step? The next time I went to a bar with a friend, I ordered chicken fingers, veggies and a beer. No joke.
|MATT’S WEIGHT LOSS: WEEK 2|
|Starting weight: 233|
|Today’s weight: 223|
|Pounds lost: 10|
|Percentage weight lost: 4%|