Day ten of my tracking streak! I really can't believe how quickly it's become a habit. And I've discovered that the food actually tastes better if I write it down before taking a bite. :D
Monday was an interesting day, tracking-wise. We popped into the clinic to get our flu shots in the morning, and afterward Dave suggested that we go to Chang's Mongolian Grill for lunch. That's one of my most favorite places, primarily because I could put my plate together with my eyes closed. I've got it down to a science. The problem is, that science includes two ladles of hot chili oil and one of sesame oil. Have you ever tried to track three ladles of oil? It just wasn't going to happen.
But I thought, "I can't avoid Chang's forever." So rather than give in and make my plate the usual way, I planned it out on the drive over and made some healthy swaps. By the time I had replaced the beef with chicken, added more vegetables, took out a little spaghetti, and swapped jalapenos and sriracha sauce for all that oil, I'd budgeted a 750 calorie meal. But guess what? Not only was it delicious, I filled up so quickly I left half of it on my plate. Success!
But the thing that spurred me to write this post wasn't tracking ... it was something I saw at the clinic.
While we were at the desk talking to the receptionist, an older couple got in line behind us. I could hear snatches of their conversation while we were filling out our paperwork, and without seeing her, I could hear that her voice was tired. As we left the desk, I glanced back at them, and saw that they were about 25 years older than we are. She was overweight, confined to a wheelchair, and wore an expression that said her zest for life and all her energy had drained away long ago.
I couldn't shake her from my thoughts. I felt like I was looking at myself in the future, if I don't keep tracking, and trying, and jumping on the treadmill more days than not, and chasing my grandson around the house, and loving every new day, and the God who gave it to me. If I don't keep making all those little changes that eventually add up to health and strength.
Sometimes the wheelchair comes and it had nothing to do with you or your choices—it’s just life. But I don't have to end up there because I couldn’t put the fork down or get off the couch. I don't have to sabotage the years that are left to me. And I won’t.