So my first week of trying to half and double was about half successful. I did take more steps, but probably not double. I did halve some of my food, but there was a LOT of food. So it wasn’t too much of a reduction for the week. In my defense, it was a big week of eating out for work (and for lack of grocery shopping). And then my coworker, Mr. Kyle, brought these babies to work.
Lord have mercy.
I swear I only ate one fourth of one. Of course that was probably four hundred calories. I get bonus points, however, for walking by them fourteen times and not taking more. Those pastries were calling to me like the Sirens calling to Odysseus. I maxed out my self control for the day.
The hardest part for me is not halving and doubling. It is remembering to do it. I am not accustomed to halving my food, or walking up and down the corridors at work every time I leave my desk. I need STOP printed on the inside of my glasses or tattooed on my wrists so I can be reminded all the time.
I did remember when we went to 3rd and Lindsley for a fantastic night of music. These amazing musicians were raising money for their friend who is struggling with his second round of cancer. The headliner was Vince Gill and he was, shall we say, larger than life. (Someone suggested that he may want to think about this half and double thing.) There were performers from Lyle Lovett’s band, from the Doobie Brothers, from…a variety of groups and musical backgrounds. Bela Fleck and Abigail Washburn. Victor Wooten. My ears were happy.
We had dinner at the show. I had a lovely prime rib sandwich and promptly put half of it off to the side to take home and eat for lunch the next day. Later, I realized the sandwich was gone. Poof. Usually my son is the culprit. This time, however, he had filled up on an enormous Rueben. All signs pointed to the waitress as the villain. Behind her sweet little smile was an evil mind waiting to destroy my dreams. Or not.
I’m all for halving, but I felt cheated. I paid for a whole sandwich, wanted a whole sandwich, lusted for it. With great restraint I put it aside. Then it was gone. Does that sound like the lyrics to a country song? Luckily for me, the banjo and bass guitar duet began about that time and I forgot about the missing sandwich.
So the moral of the story today? Hang on to your halves. Or at least put them in a to-go box right off the bat. Or eat while listening to fantastic music so you don’t care so much that you only have half. And stay away from Kyle.