falling off track

Month Two
"Oh fuck I fell off the bandwagon. More than once. But hey, these pants fit again!"

Well, I've made it through two whole months of sheer torture. Barely survived, but I'm still living to tell the tale. Although, I have to admit, this last two weeks I haven't been on my best behavior. Sometimes because I happen to be at a friend's house and there is nothing else to eat but pizza and I'm embarassed to turn it down and force my hostess to struggle to cook something for me, and other times because I've given in to temptation. Like yesterday. I ate 'panuchos,' this speciality from Yucatán that consists of fried tortillas with cochinita pibil on top. I should have eaten only the cochinita, but I couldn't resist. So I can only understand I've maintained my weight more or less, no big surprises on the scale lately. So yes, it was bound to happen, and it happened. I fell of the bandwagon, after only two months of restrains, and more than once. But I've come to realize the pleasure that comes in eating fatty food wears off after a while, and only a few hours after -rather guiltily- eating something I shouldn't I can't even remember the taste or why I craved it so much. So I'm working on getting back on track next week, let's see if I can loose a couple more pounds all through November, then just try to survive the holidays and begin a new, slightly stricter regime in January.

On the plus side, yesterday I wore these dark brown pants I had that I bought in Pull & Bear like two years ago, and which I had stored in the back of my closet because they didn't fit anymore. And guess who managed to pull up the zipper and actually feel comortable in them, as opposed to squirmy and too-tight like before? Yup, me. I felt really proud of myself for being able to fit in those pants again, maybe that's why I allowed myself too much indulgence during dinner. But hey, one good news for one bad news isn't so sucky right?