Recall that I was just re-gaining momentum with my WW program when I left for Romania. Not the greatest time to be traveling.
Ah, well, I said to myself--you'll just have to be disciplined. It's all about control.
All week long, I was good. No, I was great. Breakfast was an egg, some cucumbers and tomatoes, tea, and a slice of high grain bread. I would alternate the egg with yogurt for my protein.
Lunches were a huge pile of lettuce (like Boston lettuce or bib lettuce) with lots of cucumbers, tomatoes and balsamic vinegar and one tablespoon of olive oil. If I found a protein like chicken, I'd throw that on top. Lots of water.
Dinners were virtually identical to the lunches. Sometimes, I'd have a little rice for my carb. Two nights, I allowed myself wine. About 6 points (a point per ounce).
By the time we were ready to leave Romania, I was on plan. I didn't even eat all the WW bars I brought with me, preferring instead to chew sugarless bubble gum. I studied my reflection in the mirror and convinced myself that my face looked thinner.
Then, all hell broke loose.
First, we have the Last Supper at the traditional Romanian restaurant. A piece of bread, a salad, some steak and some rice. And two glasses of wine. I feel stuffed, even though I know I have points to spare.
Then, we go back to the hotel and pack to leave. I drink water. So far, so good.
We leave at 1 a.m. One A.M! 47 people trying to jam onto one bus with all their luggage....clothes, costumes, skates. The luggage didn't fit underneath so we had it in the aisles on the bus. People were fighting to get on the bus. Harrison calmly surveyed the scene and likened it to the crush on the Titantic.
Before we took off, we had to do a roll call. USA-here! Russia-here! Japan-here! Canada-here! Phillipines-here! Korea-here! and on and on. Only the Uzbekistani was missing. We had to wait 15 minutes for him.
We rode through the blackness, down a windy mountain path for three hours. Harrison took Dramamine and splayed himself across my body. His head rested on the bone of my shoulder (wishing I had more padding there again, ironically), arm strewn across the front of me. My legs were on top of my luggage in the aisle.
A Russian woman was cold. "Please to turn off air condition" she bellowed. Great. I was flashing hot the whole way.
Got to the airport in Bucharest and had to wait two hours. Huge lines at the check-in. They rejected the skates for carry-on and we had to pay for extra baggage. 65 euros. Like $85.
Two hour flight from Bucharest to Frankfurt. I ate the eggs on the flight. Lots of salt, but I needed something at that point.
Get to Frankfurt and went into the Lufthansa lounge. This is where the WW plan breaks down.
What are the odds that an airport lounge would be hosting an Oktoberfest celebration?
Okay, you are tired, you are hungry and you have 5 whole hours to just hang out and wait for your flight.
There is food everywhere. A yogurt bar, fresh fruit, all sorts of breads, a pancake bar (!), liquor, juices, coffee, tea, smoked salmon, capers, onions, bagels, cream cheese, fresh-baked pretzels, ice cold beer, a baked potato bar (!) What would you do?
I started with fresh fruit. Then I had half a bagel with a little cream cheese and some smoked salmon.
Three hours later, I had some more fruit and then half a baked potato.
The carbs were calling me. I drank coffee and had more fruit.
People were stuffing themselves.
I was white-knuckling it and all I could think of were those carbs (pretzels, bread, pancakes, potatoes).
Mercifully, they called our flight.
Eight hours of flying. I was in the Twighlight Zone body-wise. Couldn't sleep, couldn't stay awake, couldn't read my book. Watched Something Borrowed (surprisingly cute) and ate the in-flight meal (chicken something).
Kept drinking water. Didn't have to go the bathroom the whole time. I could see my feet swelling. Felt like the Goodyear blimp.
23 hours and a gazillion points later, we got home.
Get on the scale this morning.
Up 5 pounds.
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