to regret or not to regret

A piece of tilapia sauteed in garlic, a little bit of olive oil, and lemon juice. Sauteed spinach. Half of a baked sweet potato.

This delicious and nutritious lunch, leftover from dinner last night, is sitting in my fridge right now. I had an unexpected last minute lunch meeting today at a bar. I ordered a wrap which consisted of: a few pieces of steak, Asian slaw, green beans, and a whole wheat tortilla. It was served with a few tortilla chips. (Seriously, there were only about 7).

The last time I had a lunch meeting at this bar was during the first week of my lifestyle change, back in January when everything was fresh and new. I ordered a cup of soup (not a creamy one) and a garden salad (no dressing, cheese, etc).

The meal I ate today is relatively healthy, and a good way to satisfy the red meat craving I've been suffering for several days.* However, I'm sure the wrap far exceeded the calories I had planned to consume at lunch, or the calories in a cup of soup/garden salad.

Here's the thing: I can't work up a sense of failure. I have the rest of the day to be good, and the rest of the week. I have flex points if I need them, and no planned meals out for the rest of the week. I think I'll be OK. But there's still a nagging sense that I should feel guilty because I didn't make the best possible decision. I'm so deeply ambivalent about this, and even the time it takes to write this post feels like a neurotic indulgence.

The bigger point that I'm trying to make, then, is that this weight loss thing is about so much more than making the right choice. Contrary to what they preach on The Biggest Loser, you have to be open to compromise, contrition, and forgiveness. To put it differently, so much of this is mental. We have to make choices, and live with those choices. I think I can cope with this one, but coping isn't much of a way to go through life.

*The other night I whined about it so much that I decided to figure out the last time I had any red meat. I recited every meal I had eaten for the last two weeks and learned two things: 1) I hadn't eaten red meat in at least two weeks; and 2) far too much of my brain space is devoted to remembering every bite I take.