Today marks one week since I’ve decided to eat better and exercise more.

It also happens to be Monday, aka weigh-in day, which is my least-favorite day of the week.

So this morning I woke up and went on the hunt for a scale. I refuse to keep one in my house since I am the person who will get it on it three times a day and obsess over every ounce gained. Luckily for me, Grandma has one and was more than willing to put up with her granddaughter in her I’ve-only-been-awake-for-10-minutes state.

During the trip from my house to hers, I was freaking out. What if the scale said I’d gained weight? Well, a friend did say there’s a good chance that’d happen since I’m walking almost every night and would turn some of my fat into muscle. What if it stayed the same? That’d be blasphemy. What if I lost a lot and had a stroke? It’d be worth it.

Luckily, the number on the scale didn’t increase nor did it cause a stroke. Instead, it told me I now weighed 142 pounds (I round down if decimals are involved, it makes me feel better) and I nearly did a jig.

Seeing the change, even that small one, spurred me to do better. Since it’s my day off, I’d toyed with the idea of having a nice Bojangles breakfast and being a bum. Instead I ate breakfast with grandma (just scrambled eggs, hold the fabulous hashbrowns and bacon please) and skipped soda, trading it for lemonade. Now my potato chip munching may be problematic, but even then I’ve had fewer potato chips than usual, so I view that as an improvement. But after laying in the sun for a few hours, I took a nice 45-minute walk around the neighborhood so I feel like the chips didn’t stand a chance.

I do not want to be so miserable I cannot enjoy my weight-loss. I want to have fun and, by result, look hot at the beach. I don’t feel like this is an unusual request.

And, really, losing two pounds during the practice week isn’t bad. This week, the Mt. Dew and fast food will be completely nixed and I will walk each night instead of just a few. The only exception will be Wednesday, since I’ll be at Texas Roadhouse with The Daily News for Dining for Literacy.

So, folks, what will you be doing differently this week?

courtesy of dishola.com

To say I took a huge step backward in my diet would be an understatement. Breakfast Wednesday was fine, but come lunch… well… it just didn’t quite work out.

When it was time to eat, I went home to make myself a sandwich and enjoy the not-as-good-as-a-cheeseburger meal in the privacy of my kitchen. Unfortunately, I forgot that work was being done on the house — in the kitchen — and it’s just rude to eat in front of some guy who is working hard on your house. So I checked the pups and went back out the door.

But I was starving so I did what I said I wouldn’t do and stopped at a drive thru on the way back to the office.

The good news is I only got an eight pack of chicken tenders. The better news is I only ate six of the tenders. The best news is that when I did the math, those six tenders only had 285 calories. I was thrilled and full and happy, though feeling guilty about the drive thru visit.

But dinner, however, made me feel great about the 285 calories of chicken tenders.

A girlfriend called and mentioned she was dying for dinner at a certain fabulous diner on Onslow Drive. My response was simply: I’m broke. Unfortunately, her’s was “I’m buying” and who in their right mind turns down free food?

Two hotdogs, a side of fries and a Mountain Dew later, I was done eating. She joined my grand total with two cheeseburgers with all kinds of stuff on them, a side of fries and a soda.

Even walking for an hour after that meal didn’t make me feel better.

So, blog friends, how do you avoid the temptation?