Seventy Left

After straying quite a bit during finals, I’m back on Atkins and doing well.

It all started with a dinner party the boyfriend and I hosted a week before the semester ended. It really was the party to end all other parties, and I don’t know if we will ever top it. My common-law in-laws lent us their house for the weekend, and we served up a menu of:

• Bacon Wrapped Cream Cheese Jalapeño Poppers

• Hickory Smoked Sausage and Chicken
• Twice-Baked, then Sautéed Ribs
• Broccoli with a Fontina Fondue
• Creamed Spinach
• Broiled Acorn Squash

• Dark Chocolate Pudding
• Chocolate Cake

The creamed spinach was undeniably the standout, although everything was near perfect. We served fourteen people in all, and every one of them hung out in the kitchen as we worked. The night was surreal, and it makes me happy that we didn’t stop throwing parties back when our first one was a dud. Practice makes perfect.

The entire night was Atkins friendly, too, except for the cake that a friend brought to share. It was beautiful–dark and rich with the creamiest icing–but the boyfriend and I knew better than to eat it ourselves. Unfortunately, that didn’t stop us. We had been doing so well with Atkins and the gym that we thought one night wouldn’t matter a bit; we’d get up the next morning and start right where we left off.

That never happens. As it turns out, the next day we just wanted more cake. Thinking that one more splurge wouldn’t hurt us when we had come so far, we bought an Italian Cream Cake. This mindset ended sometime last week when we got back on Atkins fo’ realsies, and we’ve been eating right ever since.

The scale, however, still frowns at our excess. Although we’ve already lost a bit of what we put on, I won’t be back to 248 overnight (which is sad, because that would be very nice). Right now I’m hoping to be back in the 240s by early-June, when I drive home to Philadelphia. I’m hoping to get my father started on low carb, but I won’t be a very good role model if I haven’t lost any weight since the last time he saw me.

Before I close this post, I have to say that even though this might seem like failure, it’s just a stumble. If you ruin your diet, get up, wipe away the greasy tears, and get back to what’s important. Everyone does this at one time or another; the important thing is to make it a quick tumble, because every day that you let it become a face-first, spread-eagle plunge is a day of progress that you’ll never get back.

In short, keep on truckin’.