Hubby and I started a “biggest loser” contest on Monday. So far so good.
I may not win, but I’m having lots of fun! On my birthday Hubby was vacillating between two dishes at the restaurant. I encouraged him to get the 3-cheese fettuccini alfredo . . . and he did! (It had approximately 16 W.W. points per cup – 800+ calories. And he thought I was just guiding him in his ordering so that I could sample his plate. Ha! I didn’t have a bit.)
Then yesterday I made chocolate chip cookies for the student council that Loula Belle is on. I did not have one lick, snitch or bite of dough during their baking, and only ate ½ a cookie much later in the afternoon. Even though they were still available this morning, I resisted. (I think Hubby has had at least six cookies.)
Sure, men may have an advantage when it comes to weight loss because of their muscle mass, but I’m finding ways around that . . . SABOTAGE!
In other weight loss news, I’ve taken to wearing a loose rubber band on my left wrist. When I’m about to eat a treat or goodie – something that my mouth likes but that’s hurtful to my weightloss efforts – I give the rubber band a couple really good snaps against the inside of my wrist. OUCH!
It’s a very physical way to remind myself that eating junk really can be painful for my body.
The consequences of eating too many sweets could . . .
Lead to diabetes – a disease that already runs on both sides of my family.
Contribute to heart disease – another health problem that plagues my mother’s side of the family.
Cause even more pain in my already touchy weight-bearing joints.
Elevate my cholesterol. And after I’ve finally been able to get it into the healthy range – after 14 years of being a bit above recommended levels.
Hit me in the pocketbook. I’ve loved not having to buy clothes from the plus-size section anymore. Plus, smaller clothing sizes usually cost a bit less. Not to mention that if I gain much more weight I’ll have to buy an entire wardrobe of bigger clothes. (Note: This would also cause pain and suffering for my family as I’d be extra grumpy every time I thought about my growing thighs.)
So there you have it. I’m hoping my new rubber band technique snaps me back to the reality of my choices. I’ll let you know.