Last night I made vegetarian chili reminiscent of Cincinnati style with the chili served on top of spaghetti. This meant taking the ingredients and putting them into the Weight Watchers recipe builder to get the points. Using measuring spoons to make sure I get only 2 T. of light sour cream and low-fat shredded Mexican cheese on top. Since I’m taking the chili (minus the spaghetti) to work this week for dinner, I had to be precise in scooping them into the microwavable containers, I couldn’t just guess that each serving was the same.
It even meant measuring out exactly 1 oz. of whole grain thin spaghetti.
This is what I do. Every single meal of every single day. When I go out to dinner with friends, like, say Jammy Buggers on Friday night and Tequila Panchos on Saturday night, I have to look at the food on my plate and try and estimate, taking that information and plugging it into my WW app (so if I am ever out to dinner with you and I take my phone out after eating, I promise I’m not being rude. If I don’t do it right away, I’m liable to forget something, like the 3 tortilla chips or 2 T of ketchup). When out to dinner, it means making choices and sacrificing. Like only eating three tortilla chips or only half of the really delicious sammich I had Friday or not getting alcohol or only using one of the three provided tortillas and, instead, putting the cheese and sour cream directly on the veggies and eating them that way with a fork (this is the second or third time I’ve done this with restaurant fajitas and it’s my new fave thing. I don’t even miss the tortilla).
At home, my measuring cups and spoons get a lot of use. My post-workout snack during the work week is usually a caramel corn rice cake with 1 T of peanut butter and 1 t of honey and they get measured out every time, no guessing. I even have an orphan from an old set that I use specifically for the single teaspoon of olive oil I cook my eggs in each morning.
This is what it takes and yes it’s a pain in the ass. Losing weight? Hard work and I don’t just mean sweating on the treadmill or waking up early for yoga, although that, of course, is part of it, too. I wish I could go out to eat and order without a second thought. I wish I didn’t have to plan and entire days worth of meals a week in advance. I wish I could order popcorn at the movie theater instead of sneaking in my own snacks (I do usually purchase a drink. Makes me feel a little less guilty). Forget calories in versus calories out because you can’t out exercise a bad diet.
So that is what it takes. But this is what it looks like:
That is my new little black dress that I purchased on Friday. The blue cardigan was a last minute decision because I thought the sleeveless dress needed a little something more. The blue cardigan is also a Large. Buttoned up and my boobs still fit. And I have a waist again! I mean, hello, just look at those curves. This morning I pulled out one of my new pairs of Size 18 work pants and, like I did in the dressing room, thought “There is no way in hell these are going to fit.” But they did, beautifully. Also, can we talk about the fact that this dress would make the most perfect First Date outfit?
1000 words, people. One thousand words.
Love from the ashes,