Of course one day after starting my new health mission, I went on a road trip up to Santa Cruz with my little sister. A six hour road trip, to be exact. Six whole hours of sitting on my butt and thinking about all the exercise I was not doing. But I reminded myself, my first mission in this journey was trying to eat better and having a healthier relationship with food, and I shouldn’t panic, when I have time to exercise two times again after returning back to LA.
So, to prepare for our trip, I bought two prepared Trader Joe’s salads (one for lunch on the ride up, one for the way back down), an apple, a banana, and a bunch of raw almonds for snacking purposes. I felt ready. And to be fair, the trip up was pretty successful. I had no desire to eat crappy food and no berating thoughts. But as soon as we arrived in Santa Cruz, I was tested for the first time.
Dinner! I had forgotten about dinner. We needed to pick a place in town to go out, and I was feeling nervous. My head reeled with a roller coaster of thoughts. Should I go somewhere I wouldn’t be tempted to eat unhealthy food? Was I allowed to treat myself? I was on vacation, after all. Those calories didn’t count, right? Or should we go somewhere with terrible food where I’d eat very little and not have to worry about temptation. What about counting calories? How could I track my macros out at a restaurant?!
It took S (the little sis) and I about…an hour and a half…of walking around Santa Cruz to finally concede to going to the most popular place in town—a quaint Italian bistro by the water with only 12 tables and a small but specific menu. I hadn’t anticipated eating out so soon, for some reason. I thought I’d be able to control my intake and feel confident in my food choices for at least the first week. But here I was, day 2, and feeling frayed already.
The restaurant put out a plate of bread, olive oil, garlic, and balsamic vinegar. S reached for the bread immediately, and I sighed internally. I warred with myself. Could I have a piece of bread? What about the oil? Bread without oil? But ultimately, I denied myself, convincing myself I had to save my calories for a delicious dinner. As I looked over the carb and fat heavy Italian menu, I grimaced again. Could I just ask for a piece of grilled chicken with steamed vegetables? But as S commented that the truffle gnocchi in a tomato cream sauce looked like what she was going to get, I reassessed. What could I eat that was high in protein and veggies but I would still WANT to eat. That I wouldn’t beg her for a taste of pasta and then feel extensive guilt after? I ultimately decided on a NYC strip steak with mushrooms and spinach in a garlic white wine sauce. I contemplated asking for it without the sauce, wondering how much butter or oil they used in the cooking process, but decided against it. I would enjoy my steak just as much as S enjoyed her truffle pasta. (steak pictured below)
And I did. I’m not going to lie. It was delicious. I even allowed my self a glass of rose wine with it (followed by club soda with lemon). But I couldn’t help but feel guilty that night as I plugged my food into my calculator. I hadn’t gone over my allotted calories for the day, but my fat content was too high, and my macros were all off. I was up for the better part of the night wrestling with my decision to eat that one freaking steak. And that sucked.
Today has been better. I had a latte for breakfast (thanks, S for bringing it to me in bed!) and picked some Meyer lemons off the tree our hosts had in their front yard. Excited and ready to continue, I had my second salad in the car as we headed back to LA. Though I still felt a twinge of jealousy as we stopped at Subway for S to get a sandwich (I swear, I could smell the mayo with such clarity I was impressed with myself), I was able to remind myself that I was satisfied with my food intake. My Trader Joe’s salad was just as delicious with its ripe currants, pesto vinaigrettte and light smattering of asiago cheese! Halfway back, we stopped in Solvang, which I thought would present itself with a whole barrage of emotional complications - the abundance pastries, chocolates, and sausages around every corner - but I was able to feel completely fine treating myself with a microbrew Danish red ale and heading back onto the road. It was so enjoyable, drinking peaceful in the company of my sister, the beautiful scenery, and the incredible weather, it didn’t even phase me that nearly everyone around me was consuming something I “wasn’t allowed” to have anymore.
As I sit in the passenger seat thinking about the past two days, I realize I have much more to deal with than I initially prepared myself for. My mind is a bit of a muddled place when it comes to my health, and I am still figuring out how to work things through one step at a time. This journey is just beginning, and I guess I somehow thought that putting myself out there would magically change the way I see myself. Sadly, it hasn’t. I still look in the mirror and see that stranger looking back at me, but I have been overwhelmed by the amount of support I’ve received from all of you. Truly, I feel so incredibly blessed to have such a support system at my ready that I didn’t even know existed. The messages and encouragement have humbled me and ignited me in my pursuits. I have nothing but extreme thanks for everyone who has gotten in touch with me and provided me with positivity as I embark on this challenging path. I am more grateful than I can ever really express.
One day at a time, though, right? Let’s keep doing this.
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