I started an exercise regimen at the end of January. That's going well, but I'm actually gaining weight, not losing it. Why? Because I eat like a pig. As a result, I started a diet regimen last weekend.
The fact is: every time I've ever achieved sustained weight loss, it's been as a result of meticulously counting calories. Am I going to eat those Sno-Balls? Fine. Then I'd better be entering them into FitDay so that I know what else I can't eat later. Many people can lose weight without a detailed balance sheet. I cannot. It's not that I don't know how bad certain foods are for me, it's just that I don't alter my behavior unless the cold unfeeling numbers are staring me in the face: Sno-Balls == 360 calories.
One rough thing about counting calories is that so many modes of eating become problematic. Eating in restaurants? Whoa, that's a monkey wrench. Fixing a nice meal at home? Counting calories is possible, but it can get complicated. The easiest way to eat when pursuing this sort of regimen is to just consume pre-packaged, pre-labeled food. I know this is bad on oh-so-many levels, both nutritional and moral, but sometimes certain values must be compromised for the more important goal. In this case, I'm going to be eating out of cans and boxes and the like for several months, until I can get myself steeled to a proper diet.
Fortunately, I've discovered one delicious, balanced meal: the corned beef sandwich. One slice of bread (not two), a hunk of cheese, and a couple slices of corned beef (along with some ketchup, mustard, and a slice of onion) produce a delicious and filling small meal that only packs 250 calories. Add a bowl of chicken noodle soup and you have a feast!
Small meals. Small meals. Kris has always scolded me for my inability to control portion sizes, and now I'm paying the price for it. Small meals. That's what I'll be consuming until the summer...