It’s early morning. I’m still here—apparently, I survived the flight.
I set the alarm so that I would have ample time to write and post my blog, and even more importantly, be able to get my morning walk in.
As much as I love New York and often let my ducks meander out of their row, this time I’m determined not to give up my walks. I’ll admit, I could probably enjoy another hour or two in bed, under a fluffy blanket, next to my husband. But thinking about my walking group and all of the great members that have joined me—how they walk with me every day, supporting my efforts and following my progress; I can’t let them down. This visit to New York is not going to derail my fitness goals.
You probably think that suddenly I became a Superwoman. Well, you’re wrong. Believe me, I also slip-up.
Traveling can be a huge hurdle when trying to lose weight. The temptation is everywhere: restaurants, coffee shops, free high-calorie breakfasts at the hotel, and let’s not forget that wicked piece of chocolate left on my pillow each night.
Although I bravely shoved that tempting chocolate aside last night, I had an earlier slip-up—it was at dinnertime. Quite frankly, it was more than just a slip, it was more like a sin.
My husband and I dine mostly in local restaurants, places where tourists don’t usually go. We started this tradition years ago, and not just in New York. It exposes us to the local culture and brings us closer to the communities we visit. To find these little gems, we don’t consult with our hotel staff. The chances that the concierge would recommend a neighborhood restaurant are slim. So, what do we do? We ask local people, like the bellman or even a taxi driver. And if it is a city where we have friends, we take their advice first.
Last night, we ate at a small Italian restaurant. I had good intentions and tried to stick to the advice I’ve heard in the past. I ordered fish as my main course. However, it was everything else that accompanied it that tested my resolve. They served bread, along with their signature small plate of lentils in olive oil with garlic—and I could not help myself. Next, was the wine. My husband always upgrades the dinner with a great bottle of wine—I couldn’t let him drink alone. And to add the finishing touch to my sin, I ordered the delicious cannoli—just a plain cannoli.
I wish I had better willpower when it comes to food. Thirty pounds is a long, arduous journey to travel before I reach my goal. I hope that with time I will be able to be stronger and stick with a sensible main course. In the meantime, I will walk a little longer to get rid of my sin from last night.
Does this happen to you?