Blog Dis
No work = weight gain
2025-01-09
Oh my! I was barely out of work-mode for eight days, counting the weekend in between, and during the time I must have put on at least six pounds, based on how my sit-ups and crunches felt this week, a belly like a boulder. 😱
I failed to chide myself that removing oneself from the work routine of getting up early, in order to work out, means that my discipline would fall to the wayside. Quite possibly, the extra large coffees w/ a generous dollop of cool whip had an adverse effect, or maybe it was the pasta, or pizza, or dark chocolate, and or a combination of all together. I can't be sure, to pinpoint the culprit. It's really difficult to gauge where the extra weight came from, either from my food choices or the nibbles with friends, or catching up with a proposal writer for lunch. You just never know, you know?
But you do know when you've put on the extra weight because the scale doesn't lie. And if you tweak your scale, to alter its reading, how your clothes feel won't lie. On the other hand, burgers (the delicious bastards) lie to you all the time. Burgers tell you that your hips look fabulous and your tummy is as flat as a pancake, and your arms are muscled and strong. Burgers will tell you just about anything they believe you want to hear, just so you'll keep eating them, even if they're your home-cooked burgers (my preference, tho' my favourite place in Ottawa, Riviera Restaurant, makes a mean smashburger w/ skinny fries; how I like them, but this didn't stop me from recommending they add sweet-potato or yam fries to their menu - maybe next time?).
Fries have been battling it out with romaine lettuce since Roman times when Caligula and his debauched troupe of merry eaters and vomiters slugged it out over which was more healthy. Obviously, they didn't eat the modern finger food of our time; otherwise they'd too would come to the conclusion that shaping potatoes into finger-convenient food would be ideal for shoving handfuls down your throat, in stead of crunching down a dirty piece of romaine lettuce. Pardon me. I'm being unfair here. I absolutely adore Romaine lettuce and I eat salads seven days a week. I kid you not. I'll buy six heads of romaine each week, and process them all in one preparation session to ensure that I have a fresh salad good to go each day. It takes me one hour to tear off each leaf from the stalk from each romaine head, another 30 minutes to allow the torn-up lettuce to soak in ice-cold water, and then finally at least 45 minutes to one hour to spin-dry the lettuce. Once inside a crisper in the fridge, the lettuce doesn't brown. If you leave your romaine intact with each leaf attached to the stalk, the opposite occurs - the stalk will draw out the chlorophyll from the green leaf, and the whole head will turn brown. Stalks in romaine work their charm when the romaine is still in the ground, to deliver nutrients to the leaves (water) but once it's pulled out of the earth, its quality quickly degrades, unless the romaine is properly prepared. I use extra-virgin olive oil in my salad dressing w/ two teaspoons of prepared mustard, and the additional ingredients include goat feta cheese, sun-dried tomato, unsalted roasted pumpkin and sunflower seeds, walnut pieces and dried cranberries, finely diced, and boneless chicken breast, a small portion.
So, I ask you, can burgers complete with an awesome romaine salad prepared with love? For sure! Burgers know their target market, whereas romaine is busy being a silent, low-level growing green leaf stuck in the ground.
Yep. This no work thing has its obvious upswing - the freedom to behave foolishly with food and drink and the desire unabated to chew the fat with friends, not having to be mindful of time, like how you might have to observe a schedule during the week, knowing you need to get up early to go to work. The downside is the rudderless feeling and inconsistency. Transformation, however, from one ending to new beginning should take a bumpier road bcus as you lay the groundwork to return to work, you keep an open mind and allow all things to come to you, like those extra pounds.
I've been back at work now for seven days, and back to my work-out routine, which in winter means stretching, free weights, push-ups, crunches and sit-ups and time on the indoor bike, plus walking to work, and walking everywhere, given that I don't own a car. My energy has returned, and my appetite for all things carbs and sugar and dark chocolate is back under control. Sleep, on the other hand, has returned to being slightly disturbed, given that I worry about the workload, try as I might to shut down this habit.
We allow ourselves to wallow in laziness because this is the ideal way to remind ourselves that discipline translates into action vs adopting a zero work ethic and schedule because this equals weight gain.
And so it goes.
I failed to chide myself that removing oneself from the work routine of getting up early, in order to work out, means that my discipline would fall to the wayside. Quite possibly, the extra large coffees w/ a generous dollop of cool whip had an adverse effect, or maybe it was the pasta, or pizza, or dark chocolate, and or a combination of all together. I can't be sure, to pinpoint the culprit. It's really difficult to gauge where the extra weight came from, either from my food choices or the nibbles with friends, or catching up with a proposal writer for lunch. You just never know, you know?
But you do know when you've put on the extra weight because the scale doesn't lie. And if you tweak your scale, to alter its reading, how your clothes feel won't lie. On the other hand, burgers (the delicious bastards) lie to you all the time. Burgers tell you that your hips look fabulous and your tummy is as flat as a pancake, and your arms are muscled and strong. Burgers will tell you just about anything they believe you want to hear, just so you'll keep eating them, even if they're your home-cooked burgers (my preference, tho' my favourite place in Ottawa, Riviera Restaurant, makes a mean smashburger w/ skinny fries; how I like them, but this didn't stop me from recommending they add sweet-potato or yam fries to their menu - maybe next time?).
Fries have been battling it out with romaine lettuce since Roman times when Caligula and his debauched troupe of merry eaters and vomiters slugged it out over which was more healthy. Obviously, they didn't eat the modern finger food of our time; otherwise they'd too would come to the conclusion that shaping potatoes into finger-convenient food would be ideal for shoving handfuls down your throat, in stead of crunching down a dirty piece of romaine lettuce. Pardon me. I'm being unfair here. I absolutely adore Romaine lettuce and I eat salads seven days a week. I kid you not. I'll buy six heads of romaine each week, and process them all in one preparation session to ensure that I have a fresh salad good to go each day. It takes me one hour to tear off each leaf from the stalk from each romaine head, another 30 minutes to allow the torn-up lettuce to soak in ice-cold water, and then finally at least 45 minutes to one hour to spin-dry the lettuce. Once inside a crisper in the fridge, the lettuce doesn't brown. If you leave your romaine intact with each leaf attached to the stalk, the opposite occurs - the stalk will draw out the chlorophyll from the green leaf, and the whole head will turn brown. Stalks in romaine work their charm when the romaine is still in the ground, to deliver nutrients to the leaves (water) but once it's pulled out of the earth, its quality quickly degrades, unless the romaine is properly prepared. I use extra-virgin olive oil in my salad dressing w/ two teaspoons of prepared mustard, and the additional ingredients include goat feta cheese, sun-dried tomato, unsalted roasted pumpkin and sunflower seeds, walnut pieces and dried cranberries, finely diced, and boneless chicken breast, a small portion.
So, I ask you, can burgers complete with an awesome romaine salad prepared with love? For sure! Burgers know their target market, whereas romaine is busy being a silent, low-level growing green leaf stuck in the ground.
Yep. This no work thing has its obvious upswing - the freedom to behave foolishly with food and drink and the desire unabated to chew the fat with friends, not having to be mindful of time, like how you might have to observe a schedule during the week, knowing you need to get up early to go to work. The downside is the rudderless feeling and inconsistency. Transformation, however, from one ending to new beginning should take a bumpier road bcus as you lay the groundwork to return to work, you keep an open mind and allow all things to come to you, like those extra pounds.
I've been back at work now for seven days, and back to my work-out routine, which in winter means stretching, free weights, push-ups, crunches and sit-ups and time on the indoor bike, plus walking to work, and walking everywhere, given that I don't own a car. My energy has returned, and my appetite for all things carbs and sugar and dark chocolate is back under control. Sleep, on the other hand, has returned to being slightly disturbed, given that I worry about the workload, try as I might to shut down this habit.
We allow ourselves to wallow in laziness because this is the ideal way to remind ourselves that discipline translates into action vs adopting a zero work ethic and schedule because this equals weight gain.
And so it goes.
