Oh how I fell off the wagon.
My parents were due to be having a big holiday in my part of the world – visiting me several times overt the two and a half month period. Of course I’d be taking the time off when they were in town, but the only extended period was to be the last ten days when a week of that time would be spent on a driving holiday.
Unfortunately my poor mother fell very ill in the first week and had to be hospitalised when she didn’t respond to treatment. And of course she doesn’t get that ill in the city that I live in. No, that happens in another country – it would be too easy to be able to just visit from home. No I spent the week in a little (nice) hotel on the outskirts of Dublin until Mum was well enough to fly to my city.
That first week, I managed to cope reasonably well health-wise. I went a little too short on sleep but I did manage to go for a run before breakfast most days (gentle 8km runs, and sprint intervals). The classic full breakfast meant I could fill up on eggs, bacon, mushrooms (and just a little bit of black pudding), and go through till dinner where I managed to make pretty reasonable choices (except for beers with Dad but that was on compassionate ground so ok!).
When I got home, Mum and Dad stayed in an apartment nearby. Which meant I was heading there after work. While I could keep my food choices pretty healthy I was already starting to notice the lack of exercise. I can’t face going for a run before work and actually being able to function and my gym doesn’t open early enough to go before work either. So I’m now looking at almost a month of not lifting heavy things. I actually feel weaker and like muscle imbalances are slipping back in. At least I was cycling to and from work.
Now we’re on the road – no time for any runs (and its pouring most of the time), no gym, barely any walking. And I’m making terrible food choices. I’ve eaten more wheat in the last five days then I’ve eaten in the last two months (and feeling the bloated sluggish effects). Unfortunately, now that Mum has her appetite back, filling up on breakfast isn’t working (although a lot of the hotels are a bit stingy with their eggs and bacon anyway…) as we stop for lunch and/or afternoon tea. And I’m weak. Weak enough that I ate the shortbread that came with the coffee I ordered.
Now, I do agree with the 80/20 rule, and I do agree that some things are exceptional moments that one should enjoy. So I don’t mind breaking my attempt at healthy eating if a)its really necessary (but how often is that really true?) or more likely b)its something I want to do. So I don’t mind that I’ve drunk more than a sensible amount of wine, beer and spirits over the last month. Nor do I begrudge the delicious sticky toffee pudding that I had for dessert on that first night. But I do begrudge eating not-good-quality bread products to pad out my meal. So trying to skip the sandwiches and find some kind of salad alternative. And I’ve now accepted that the sausages being served with breakfast are clearly far from the 98% meat products I’d buy for myself so they will remain on the plate.
Still a few more days to go, and I don’t plan to make an issue of it for the rest of the holiday. I will attempt to eat better and make sure its worth it when I don’t – today the place we stopped for coffee and cake was awful. The cake tasted at least two days old, and was clearly bought from a supermarket commercial bakery – two mouthfuls and I decided that bad cake isn’t worth it.
Due to Mum’s convalescence I don’t see my getting more exercise for a while, but I am going to try eat better when the options are there, and skip the bad options when they are only a snack.