OkeyDOKEY, progress! Five days in, I went out to dinner with my husband and friends to a local margarita bar and Mexican restaurant. (Why would I do that to myself? WHY? WHY?!? You may ask. . . read on!) The Husband desperately wanted to go out to dinner, and what kind of person would I be to deny him that enjoyment? Therefor, I artfully orchestrated an outing to a kind of cuisine I can actually pass up without too much regret. I originally suggested Indian food (call me a weirdo, but I'd RATHER eat restrictive "diet" food than Indian cuisine. Curry and coriander just really doesn't do it for me,) but Mexican was settled upon by all. Fine with me. Harder for me to pass up their creative margaritas than the food, to be honest.
Thus, on a Friday night, armed with festive-colored AminoX and a protein smoothie in shaker bottles, and my Snapware full of portioned out mealfoods, I went out into the world. I was promptly rewarded by my AminoX leaking all down my bag and pants. (That is, no matter what I carry it in, ALWAYS the leakiest dang beverage in the world. It's never the WATER that leaks, no, it's the apple-scented stuff.) WHATEVER.
We make it to our seats. Server asks us what we'd like to drink. Husband orders a pint of beer. (God, that sounds so good, it was a hot day, I'd just showered from my workout, a pint of beer, mmm,) and I ordered a glass of water, and a glass of ice. Drank said water, pounded my protein shake while others enjoyed their drinks. They then ordered their food, and I explained to our server that "I have allergies, so I had to bring my own." Somehow, I imagine people will respond better to an allergy explanation, than a "You don't serve anything on this menu I can eat right now, and I don't trust your cooks to make anything off menu that I specify will fit the parameters of my dietary needs." Nope. "Allergies." 'Nuff said.
So I then got to sit there, smelling my husband's and friends' food, as they nommed down on cheesy burritos, greasy porky carnitas, and chips. Oh, and fabulous colored margaritas. I tried not to say ANYTHING about my own food. I tried not to make faces as I continued to eat (oh so slowly, the chewing is exhausting, I swear) long after their plates were done. I felt supremely self conscious about my first Eating Out experience, but no one but me seemed to feel it was that weird. Which was nice. There wasn't even peer pressure to drink, which was a welcome change from the last time I ate out with friends while dieting. All in all, the evening was a success.
What really hit me was, as we walked to Baskin Robbins for my husband's dessert (OMG, right? Cruelty!) he put his arm out for me to take, and said, "I'm really proud of you. You didn't even consider cheating. That had to be really hard." And I thought about it, and realized that I hadn't even really thought about cheating on my plan. I just didn't see it as an option. And that's. . .awesome.
Of course, it doesn't hurt that I was wearing my "I bought them just a little too tight but will eventually fit them" jeans, and they were fitting perfectly. It also didn't hurt that I'd been reading posts from coaches, friends, and role models all day who were at the Arnold Fitness 2013 all day, and who had lots of pictures of themselves looking amazing and fit and happy. The real kicker though, was that I actually cheated again this morning. I got on the scale before Weigh In Day. And I was down 3 pounds. I'm finally making the kind of progress I want, and I'm happy about it. I refuse to wash it away on a night of margaritas and food I wouldn't even choose for my "cheat meals". I can achieve my goals. Every little triumph like this gets me one step closer.
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