I forgot to mention in my last post. I have started a stand of with my man about food.
Saturday, he didn't plan on coming home until 5:00. So at 4:00 when I told him that I would make something and have it ready to eat when he got home, he told me he wouldn't have time to eat and that we could get something at the race. (Options there would be: hot dogs, hamburgers, beer, and something they call a walking taco -Snack size bag of Doritos opened on it's side, then lettuce and other crap thrown inside- never had one, they don't look or sound tasty to me.) So I politely said to my man, "Well, I'd prefer to eat something here so that I don't keep offsetting all the progress I've made with my weight all week by eating crap on the weekend." So he says to me, "Well, you can eat what you like, I'll be eating at the race." So then I say, calmly "Well, part of the reason I am here today, is to spend time with you. It would be nice if you eat with me. Plus, if you eat at the race, I'm just going to want what you're eating, and that won't help me." Well...I wound up eating alone. He ate himself a hotdog and a beer at the race, while I sipped on my spiked diet coke. His hot dog didn't even look good to me, and because I ate something low on the GI scale, I wasn't hungry again for the rest of the night. Go me.
