The Big Five. Oh!

The Big Five. Oh!

In what must be some kind of Weight Watchers record, I have finally hit the five-pound mark. It only took me fourteen weeks.

The funny thing is—funny odd, not funny ha-ha—I was absolutely certain I gained this week. I had a small gain last Saturday, after my first week on the Flex Plan, and that instilled a certain What the Fuck attitude which lasted much of the next seven days. This week I ate not one but two big cookies from the new Whole Foods in Union Square, two different times. I baked shortbread cookies with my niece and ate far too many of them. For crying out loud, I had a hot fudge sundae with caramel ice cream at the Red Cat, one of my favorite restaurants, Thursday night. But (you knew there was a but, didn’t you?) I acknowledged the cookies in my points tracking. I requested a smaller version of the sundae, with no marshmallow sauce (eww, anyway), and then didn’t finish it. And most important of all, Spring finally arrived this week. We had several days of sunshine, with temps in the high forties and fifties, and I actually put on workout clothes five different times and logged at least fifteen miles power walking/jogging, plus another five or so just strolling. On Thursday, Red Cat day, I covered a total of six miles.

I must admit, there were days when I wanted to walk right into one of the bakeries that pop up on my path, blooming like frickin dandelions exactly where I don’t need them to be, and as I mentioned above several times I succumbed. But there were also several days when I didn’t, or if I did I chose something smaller than I normally would have. For example, yesterday—the day before weigh-in, when any sane Weight Watcher would be filling up on fresh fruit and vegetables—I went walking in Greenpoint, the neighborhood next to mine. Not an official Power Walk, with workout clothes and iPod, just a brisk walk. On Manhattan Avenue is Peter Pan, one of the best donut shops in the city, possibly the best. I’m not all that into donuts, truth be told, but these babies really are something special, crisp and cakey and homey and fresh. About two blocks before I hit it, I started thinking about one of their marble crullers, the delightful twixtiness of the chocolate and vanilla dough, the luscious sugary glaze. Then I thought about the heft of it, literally how much one of those suckers weighs—it must be a good eight ounces—and how heavy I’d feel after I ate it. Half a block from the entrance to Peter Pan, I realized I should’ve just turned the corner so I wouldn’t even be tempted, but it was too late. I was going to walk right by. Pass it. Pass it. Pass it. Come on, Debbie, pass it.

No. I went in. But instead of buying (and eating) a marble cruller, I bought a pair of donut holes instead. They were delicious, and I enjoyed every crumb. Even licked my fingers afterwards, and felt no guilt. Two donut holes, I could account for.

This week’s goal: to combine the exercising with better eating. It’s pouring right now, supposed to rain all weekend, but hopefully by Monday it’ll be better. If not, I do have a gym membership and I’m not afraid to use it.

Tomorrow I’m going to cook one of my favorite meals, Turkey Meatloaf from The Barefoot Contessa Cookbook, with mashed potatoes and braised escarole. WW readers: the meatloaf is 6 points a serving, and worth every bit. Don’t forget to come back for the recipe!