Temptation and Trepidation

On Friday, I hit one week on the meal plan.   It was a bit of a struggle in the first few days, but by day four I thought I was starting to hit my stride. I had a check-in with Dr. B and learned that I am down nine pounds!!  And then I came home from work.

Being from Kenya, my husband has many yummy treats in his culinary repertoire.  The unfortunate thing about said yummy treats is that not one of them is on the meal plan.   They all involve flour, bread, and frying.  When I arrived home, having had to ditch my salmon from lunch (another story) and hungry, I spied the plate on the counter.  Crispy, chewy, meaty, fried, yummy Sambusa goodness.  Think eggroll with all the veggies removed and replaced with curry spiced meat and not much else.  They are, in a word, amazing.

I would love to say that I was able to look at the Sambusa and rise above the temptation.  I would love to say that I saw them, admired them, and left them on the counter.

Yeah, right.  I ate one.

Even typing that, I feel as guilty as I did the night I ate it.  I would love to be able to say that it tasted so wonderful that the stumble was worth it.  I am sure that it would have been yummy under normal circumstances; they always are.

And so, in grand tradition, I fretted over eating it, realized there was nothing I could do about it once it was eaten, and then proceeded to figure out how to get back on the wagon.

Step one was to get over the guilt and move on. Step two was to plan a trip to our local Farmers' Market the next morning to get back on track.

It is very important to note that while I went to a rural high school, I know ZERO about farming, vegetables, all of it.  I thought I would go, check it out, and it would be fine.  It was seriously overwhelming to one such as me.

Thank goodness for @bluebelleinbg.  My own personal food guru, she is my go-to gal when it comes to needing foodie help (among other things).  Even though she is what seems like forever away, technology is the great equalizer.   In the midst of my eternal vegetable confusion, she was the solid.  One quick text professing my impending meltdown, and she came to my vegetehell rescue.

A few messages that served to instill confidence and thirty minutes later, I left with wonderfully fresh, local veggies to incorporate into the meal plan to inject some life into it.

And so, I am back on the wagon with a vengeance.  I also have plans to venture to the Farmer's market next week to pick up some more fresh veggies.

And lastly, I am letting go of the guilt.  After all, this is a work in progress, not an instant fix.  It's going to take time, I am going to make mistakes, and I am going to give myself a break when I do.  After all, it's important to make sure that when I fall I get back up.  What would be the point of just lying there while the wagon runs me over?