Last night D and I headed over to M&S to buy some dinner. Ed always like to join us on these trips. They normally go somewhat like the following:
We walk in and check out all the Dine for 2 deals. Normally we can never agree on the same thing, D preferring Chicken and Bacon and me preferring some kind of bland salmon option. So we wonder around every aisle looking for something to agree on. We never do. So then we decide to just choose our own thing.
The problem with buying pre-prepared meals is that the calorie count is stamped on the front. The calorie counter on the front of meals, with the dreaded little circle telling you the exact amount of fat, sugar and salts, haunts me every time I go shopping. I hate them. I really bloody hate them. I find it really tricky to just buy something I like the look of. Normally, I choose whatever has the lowest numbers and the most green segments of the circle. They say that nutritional information helps you ‘Live Well’, I would beg to differ.
Last night after choosing to have our own things, I headed to the ‘Count on Us’ aisle- a range of meals that have been specially developed to be low in fat and calorie controlled. We were always told in the clinic to never choose the ‘Light’, ‘Diet’ options as these are for people on a diet…. I however, am not on a diet.
I don’t know why I find that concept so difficult top grasp. I think it’s because I always put myself on some sort of a diet growing up. I used to read dieting blogs and tips while I was in school and I dreamt of being able to join weight watchers or do some kind of Atkins diet. I loved projects and goals and I guess I just saw dieting as another project. I vividly remember starting each week telling myself, ‘right, this week will be a good week’. Even if I made it a ‘bad’ week, I would start again the next monday. In sum, I feel as though I have been on a diet for as long as I can remeber.
Last night, after having chosen my ‘Count on Us’ ‘diet’ meal I went and found D. He knows a lot about Ed and was quick to point out that I was making a bad choice. I tried to justify it because it was a pasta dish and so it was a fear food. Irrelevant, said D, It’s still the diet range. I tried to argue with him but I don’t know who I was trying to trick. I knew as soon as I had picked it up that it was bad choice and not pro-recovery. So after a deep breath and a bit of help from D I put the ‘diet’ pasta down and got myself a carbonara! D and I had the same thing, enjoyed dinner, and felt satisfyingly full.
Team D&J: 1, ED: 0