The title is a play on one of my favorite films, Stanley Kubrick’s 1964 film, Dr. Strangelove or: How I Learned to Stop Worrying and Love the Bomb.
So, as I’ve mentioned in a previous post, I’m trying to eat better, which means counting calories, and doing some exercising to get back to a good weight (the goal is thereabouts my high school weight).
To continue to keep myself accountable and talk about the struggle, I figured I’d do periodic updates. Well, as I also mentioned in a previous post, today, I donated blood. The donation was scheduled for 1 p.m.
When I scheduled it yesterday morning, I almost immediately went, “Alright, well, after I do my donation, I’ll be bad, cheat, and get Chipotle. I’m craving Chipotle.” Fun fact: I’m always craving Chipotle because I love Chipotle.
I remember one spring/summer, Chipotle had a rewards program of some sort, and I forget the precise details, but essentially, you had to go to Chipotle something like two to three times a week, if not more, to unlock, at the end of the program period, free catering of Chipotle for 20 people. And I did it, happily. I never get tired of eating Chipotle.
My usual go-to at Chipotle is barbacoa burrito with white rice, black beans, mild sauce, corn, cheese, and sour cream. And of course, to go along with it, you gotta get the chips. That’s the usual. Every now and then, I’ll do steak instead or chicken or for the limited time they had it, chorizo. Sometimes I’ll do a bowl instead, but I prefer the burrito. Sometimes I’ll be risky and get the hot sauce (I love hot and spicy food, but it doesn’t sit well with my stomach). And sometimes I’ll get a side of guacamole to go with the chips.
In short, again, I love Chipotle, and I was craving it bad. Again, I scheduled this blood donation, and already, I’m planning this big meal I’m going to have afterward. Thousands of calories. The chips alone are 570 calories, which would be about one-fourth of my daily calories.
And even aside from my infatuation with Chipotle, and in general with food, I tend to be a depressed eater. When I’m feeling down, which is a pretty common emotional current, I turn to food to try to drown the sorrows. That’s my vice. I’m fortunate I don’t have worse outlets, although, of course, bad eating could get worse.
I was even negotiating with myself, as one does when one is looking to do something bad. Every Friday since I started eating better, I weigh myself to see how my weight progress is going. Yesterday, I said, okay, if I don’t like what the scale shows, screw it, I’m getting Chipotle.
Well, I went down another 0.9 pounds. So, I’m still moving in the right direction, albeit, I want it to go faster.
Then I started getting guilty at the thought of blowing my progress and good eating (and better spending by … not spending!) by getting Chipotle. I also have a goal of trying to make it through the entire month of July without eating at a fast-food, fast casual or traditional restaurant. So far so good.
So, after my donation, I was good. I went to Walmart to do my usual weekly shopping, and grabbed something that’s become a favorite lunch item of mine: an egg sandwich. They sell it in that cold section by the fruits. It’s about 320 calories. Not bad for one meal. Still not the healthiest thing in the world, but hey, it’s better than Chipotle. That’s less than the chips alone!
I also got a decently yummy salad, which I could have done without the carrots. Carrots are one of the few items I can’t eat. I don’t mind them as much if they’re baked and mixed in with stuff. But straight up and cold (and in this case, sliced thin)? No thank you.
As an aside since I’m talking about food, given the title, I thought I’d also talk about my issue with milk. As a kid, I was always drinking milk. I’m a cereal fiend, and I drink that with milk, of course. One of my favorite, go-to late-night snacks was always milk and chocolate chip cookies, too. I also drank milk with dinner routinely.
But, I’ve noticed, now that I’m older, milk doesn’t sit as well with me anymore. After a bowl of cereal, chocolate milk or yes, the classic milk and cookies, my stomach gets a bit funky for a couple afters hour.
That’s disappointing because I love milk. Has anyone experienced this role reversal when it comes to milk as they’ve gotten older? Did you stop drinking milk because of it or switch to some milk alternatives, like soy milk, oat milk or almond milk? I’ve only tried chocolate soy milk, and I’ve had almond milk with cereal before, and both were pretty solid.
Let me know in the comments! (And if you don’t like Chipotle, keep that blasphemy to yourself.)