Everybody, into the pool

Yesterday, I got back into the pool. After one day of good eating (probably not enough eating, actually), I decided that it was time to get back into the pool.

I woke up super early to make sure I'd have time for breakfast before getting to my 10:15am water aerobics class. Obviously, I'm not a morning person... but I probably didn't need to wake up before 7am to get to a 10:15am class! The class was much more difficult than what I remembered it to be. But I made it through just fine. I even swam 8 laps once the class was over, the very first time I swam at all since last year. (Did I mention that I injured my knee last August and it still hurt to get into the pool as recently as May?) I felt good after the class although by bedtime, I was sporting some kind of weird muscle pain in the middle of my back. And it's still there now, a day later. No pain no gain? I don't think so.

Last night I got to decide what to have for dinner. My husband (from now on he will be referred to as Chef) wasn't happy about what I chose and he complained while preparing it, but we ate it and he didn't really complain about having kasha for dinner. Tonight he's once again asked me what he should prepare for dinner. It puts the pressure on me to decide well since we obviously can't always be eating just what I want. He does 99.99% of all  the cooking and we have to have a way to figure this all out.

We had lunch out again today. The portion of Caprese salad that I got was larger than what I expected. When Chef said he was still hungry after what he'd eaten, I offered the remainder of my salad to him.

"Don't you want that?"

"Well, yes, of course I want that. But I really would prefer not to eat it. I'm really trying to be careful about what I'm eating."

"Okay. Are you going to be this careful about what you're going to be eating when we're in Italy?"

I had to admit to him, and to myself, that no, I don't plan to be this careful about what I'm eating while we're in Italy. I mean, seriously, this is Italy we're talking about. I just spent mega bucks so we can go on an historical pizza tour in Naples. How careful am I going to be? Pizza is my all-time favorite food, we're going to the place where pizza was invented. I plan to eat every last bite of everything that we're offered while on our tour. Every last bite.

I don't eat much pasta here. It's not something I'd choose to order most of the time. Will I eat pasta there? I'm sure I will. I won't eat meat there. I'm a picky enough meat eater to begin with and when out of the country, nope, no meat. If I'm lucky I can get Chef to split pastries and desserts with me. And I'll just have to monitor myself when it comes to bread and cheese. I'm pretty darn good at self-monitoring myself with regard to alcoholic beverages of any kind so I'm not too worried about that.

Here's a funny thing about sharing, though. Italians in Italy, they just don't do it. The last time we were in Italy was five years ago. We went out with cousins of Chef. They heard us debating the merits of sharing this - or that - and they laughed. Why weren't we going to order our own appetizers or our own dessert? They just didn't understand. Thank goodness that Chef, while born in Italy, has adopted American habits about sharing food.

No exercise today. Had an appointment this morning during water aerobics time. Plus not sure I really want to get back into the pool until the pain in my back has lessened. I'm hoping that will be by tomorrow.

I'm going to keep on keeping on. Knowing that right now I only have to commit to this for 21 more days (and one of those days is a day I plan to fast), I think I can, I think I can, I think I can...

Day 3: 51.2 pounds to go (I'm going backwards. Not off to a very good start, am I?)