Week two begins.
I am still motivated, and determined to get back into a healthy lifestyle.
Actually, once you put your mind to it, it’s never that bad. Orlando is supporting me, and doing his points-counting alongside me. It still amazes us how much we used to eat in one sitting.
The big challenge is the bank holiday weekend. We are booked into a hotel in the Grampians, on their “indulgence” package, which involved literally four meals a day. Although we intend to spend lots of time walking in the mountains, this will be our first serious experience out in the “real” world being served up food by others. And we don’t do too badly.
Dinner is carefully chosen. One bread roll is consumed, and no butter. Fresh vegetable soup is a safe bet. But I have to have two glasses of local wine with my kangaroo steak – it would be a sin not to.
Next morning, I choose carefully from our full cooked breakfast: just poached eggs on toast for me, with some fresh fruit. The restaurant manager presents us with our packed lunch in a cooler-box before we leave for the day. We spend the morning in the indigenous cultural centre, then on a guided tour to some Aboriginal art sites. Included in the tour is some lemon myrtle tea and traditional damper bread with jam made from native berries. I eat every morsel and count it all up into my daily intake. So far, so good.
Our packed lunch is food fit for a king. We open our container before tackling Piccaninny Hill, and eat our fill of huge chicken and avocado rolls (refer to my Favourite Sandwiches entry to prove that this is indeed a hugely popular filling here in Aus!), fruit juice, fresh fruit and a cheese platter. How we are supposed to fit afternoon tea in after this is beyond me, and we don’t.
I enjoy dinner on the second evening without feeling that I have controlled or limited myself. I am not doing badly at all. All continues in this vein until we open our second packed lunch of the weekend, and I cannot resist the pistachios, brazil nuts and dried dates on offer. I scoff half of it, and by the time I get home my daily points allowance has all but dried up. Disaster.
I cobble together a tasty morsel of fresh prawns stir-fried with brown rice, which takes the edge off my appetite for the evening. All in all I am pleased with my progress, plus all that exercise too.
Week two is a success.
Wednesday comes around again, and I approach the scales confidently. I have only lost 0.3kg. I am devastated, until somebody tells me to look in my fridge, and see how big a 250g lump of cheese is. I actually do this, and feel better already. Two weeks and a total of 1.3kg down.