Wagons, and the Getting On and Off Thereof

So the past couple of days I have been totally off the wagon in almost every respect. My sister-in-law got married this weekend and everything has been katiwompus. Friday I was mostly good but did not exercise. I chose the baked catfish and baked potato at the restaurant we went to for the rehearsal dinner. Baked catfish: good decision. Reasonably tasty and not cooked with oil, butter or shortening. Baked potato: not so much. It was overcooked in that dreary, restaurant kind of way, but I still put on the sour cream and butter and kept eating it. Why??? Why did I keep eating this very sub-par version of one of my favorite things? Why didn't I take a bite or two and decide, "You know what? I really don't like this. With the butter and sour cream's calories, this potato is just not worth it. Instead of continuing to eat this, why don't I just have another one of those dinner rolls? Or even a few of those fried mushrooms left over from the appetizer?"

So. Things to change about myself: STOP EATING ON AUTOPILOT. Once those calories are consumed, you can't undo it. Even when you wake up and realize "I really don't like this" or "I drank a lot of calories in that Coke but I'm still hungry," you're stuck.

Saturday and Sunday were a whirlwind of wedding and post-wedding recovery. I tried to eat as many vegetables as possible both days but didn't really police myself otherwise.

Monday we came back and attended our pastor's Memorial Day barbeque. There was brisket and baked beans and potato salad and cherry cobbler and I totally, totally let myself go. I justified it to myself with the "special occasion" dispensation.

Tuesday I was more or less back on track, although since Tuesdays are treat meal days, it was a fairly gentle transition. I had buttered wheat bread and tea for breakfast, 2 cans of tuna fish and mayo for lunch, a graham cracker for a snack, homemade mac and cheese for dinner and two pieces of peanut butter chocolate pie  and two glasses of milk for a late-evening snack.

Now. Here we are. Wednesday. Aiming for low-carb meals, and no treats. And there is half a peanut butter chocolate pie in my fridge.

This is tough.

But this is also the most crucial time for me to really hold fast and keep my promises. In the past this has been the pattern, over and over: I commit to something (usually fairly radical) and am really good for several days and then something major will happen (kids sick, work crisis, vacation, etc.) and I will step off the wagon, telling myself that it is just because of [insert crisis here]. But then, once the crisis is over, I'll just keep doing what I'm doing. And I never go back. Staring at that pie this morning I actually thought "I don't really care about losing weight. What does it matter, one piece ... or maybe two?"

It matters. 

I am committed. 
I will lose weight.
I will exercise.
I will not excuse broken promises. 

I might have to get rid of that pie. Maybe the neighbors like chocolate...

The number: 264