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.
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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