Historically, I have done a pretty poor job of maintaining my weight when traveling.
I get so caught up in the moment of it all.
Last week, I spent three days in Los Angeles. The first two days I did a bang up job of choosing healthy foods during the day (breakfast, lunch, snacks) and took complete and unabashed pleasure in eating fantastic dinners.
I managed to get in a lot of walking and even did some push ups, wall-sits and planks in my hotel room.
I was reminded why nutritionists often decry meal portion. When I ordered yogurt, granola, and berries, I was presented with what would easily be three mornings worth of food if I was dishing it up breakfast at home.
I awoke the third day, having learned from my granola experience, and ordered Raisin Bran.
I was feeling good. My jeans still fit nice and loose.
I departed my hotel for the marina. I was going on a boat ride!
Little did I know how bad my day was going to go.
Long story short...the sea was ROUGH and I spent about two hours tossing my cookies, port side.
Now, I’ve felt pretty lousy during both of my pregnancies and I’ve had a few gnarly bouts with the flu in my life, but nothing like what I experienced on that boat.
From the boat, I went directly to a car that zipped me around LA to deliver me to the airport.
People, it took every ounce of strength I had to resist the urge to just lay down on the sidewalk in front of the Delta curbside check-in kiosk at LAX. But I did it.
I managed to get through the doors and find a bench so I could sit down and will the earth to stop spinning on its axis, because at that point, any motion was TOO MUCH MOTION.
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Now, you’re probably wondering what on earth this whole seasickness episode has to do with healthy living. I’m getting there...
So there I sat. I hadn’t even gone through security yet. I just sat in front of the Delta check-in counters for a good long while and watched the ticket agents eye me suspiciously. I looked like hell and smelled like...well...I smelled like vomit. There’s just no way to sugarcoat that.
So I did what everyone does in a situation like this.
I called my mom.
I recounted the tale and she very supportively instructed me to go get something to eat.
“Go find something that will be easy to eat. Go get a muffin. And then call me back.”
Now after going out of my way to eat healthy and walk all over Santa Monica, I found myself feeling BAD. Throwing up that much has a weird, shaky, lingering effect and you know what you don’t feel like eating? Pretty much anything green, leafy, or reasonably nutritious.
So began my 48 hour carb-fest.
MY WEEKLY STATS
- Starting Weight: 195.5 pounds
- Week Twenty-One Weight: 175.5 pounds ( +1.5 pounds / -20 pounds total)
- Goal Weight: 165 lbs
I wish my hotel room would’ve had a scale. I’m willing to bet I managed to maintain my weight, right up until I got hijacked into queasyville.
Can you stomach healthy food when ill? I sure can’t.
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