A meal is a meal, right? Whether it takes three hours sitting outside under a grape arbor, laughing with friends and enjoying six courses, or if it takes ten minutes sitting alone. So what are the boundaries?
I couldn't get on the freeway this morning to go to work. I just couldn't. The right lane to the freeway was backed up to the light and the left lane leading to McDonalds was free and clear. It was a cold morning for a change, and a 2nd cup of coffee was calling and calling. It all happened in a just the smallest of moments, making the decision to go straight and indulge in a 2nd cup of decaf. Hadn't I been good for almost three weeks?
That is the kind of chatter that has been missing, and I'm not sure what happened this morning. Events conspired, and I fell. So what happened next? I enjoyed every sip of my coffee on the way to work, just a half hour this morning, and once there settled my things and started to work. I didn't even think about breakfast until 11, and that is where the trouble started. I knew I wouldn't be able to eat lunch until at least 3, which would make dinner 7. That all seemed fine, but at 3 I didn't feel like eating. In fact I didn't feel like eating until 4:45 when I was at Sprouts picking up a few things for the weekend. And all of a sudden I was starving. Of course I was. I took a breath, assessed the situation, and grabbed a bag of zero sugar beef jerky. It was a small bag, 4oz, a perfect serving of protein, but it wasn't a meal. And I ate it in the car driving home. So was it a snack or a partial late lunch?
And that wasn't the bad part. No longer starving, I made the bean soup I had planned; the instant pot is my best friend these days. I chopped veggies, dumped them in the pot with diced tomatoes and fresh chopped spinach, added a four pack of sausages I had cut in half so the flavour would permeate the soup along with a half bag of Red Mill 15 bean soup and covered it all up with a box of chicken stock and half a box of veggie stock. Bay leaves, Mrs. Dash's onion blend and table blend, and fresh ground pepper were the last to join the party. Everything would be ready in about an hour; 35 minutes on high and a slow release for another half hour. Here it comes. I had a bowl of potatoe chips. The part of me that can rationalize anything, and I mean anything, says this was the starch to go along with the jerky for dinner. But they were over an hour apart, and no matter how hard one part of my brain says a potatoe is a potatoe, the smart part knows better. It was a snack plain and simple.
So I wasn't hungry when the soup was ready, and didn't get hungry until, well, right now. It's 11pm and I'm never up this late. Thank you 2nd cup of decaf! The soup is all nicely packed away into servings in the fridge, and my stomach is grumbling. In my heart I don't think I've cheated today so much as strayed off the path a bit. I'm calling it bending my bright line against snacking. I know eating meals is important enough that Susan knew it deserved to have a bright line in the first place, but in my addled addicted brain it's the sugar and flour that are the important players. And I didn't mess around with those lines; they are intact. As is my motivation, and I have no intention of eating anything until breakfast.
I'm so glad it's Friday. I'm still waiting for the dentist to call, but I'm guessing my next appt. won't be until Monday and I have the weekend to get back to three squares and salads. This past week has been light on raw veggies, and I don't feel like I'm doing as well without them. But I'm in this for the long haul I keep reminding myself, and there will be plenty of salads in my future.
Time to go plan tomorrow's food, write it down, and commit to it.
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