After getting the word from my orthopedist friend Evan about my knee, (Evan: "If you weigh less, your knee will hurt less") I have really tried hard to cut down on my portion sizes. This kind of behavior modification ain't easy for me, because when it comes to seriously delicious food, I'm a "more is more" kind of a guy.
But no more "more is more." At least that's my goal.
And I have to say, I've managed to eat less this week, and I hope my weigh-in will reflect my renewed portion control vigor. And now that I've had my injection of synvyn in my knee (Evan: "I have to warn you, this shot is really going to hurt—Ouch") maybe my renewed devotion to my diet will combine with the heavy dose of lubricant to allow me to return to the squash court. I have started to exercise again.
The question of the day, or should I say the question for the rest of my life: Does "everything in moderation," combined with some form of exercise, equal a thinner me and less knee pain?
I went swimming twice this week, for a half-hour each time. Somebody took my bathing suit by mistake, I'm sure, but I'm not going to let that dampen (ha, ha) my mood.
And I have managed to avoid overeating, though I certainly had my opportunities. In the last week there's been a lot of pizza in my life, but each time I eat it, I leave quite a bit in the box. And that's OK.
I've been eating Cheerios and raisins for breakfast, which has been surprisingly filling. At a business breakfast out yesterday, I had three or four bites of some serious lemon ricotta pancakes, as well as a few bites of equally serious whipped ricotta with truffle honey on toast at Locanda Verde. My breakfast mate and I ended up leaving most of what we ordered.
My restaurant meals are still often a struggle, but at least I'm more cognizant of what I'm wolfing down.
But the hardest struggle of all, getting up after a two-hour stay at a restaurant table, has gotten easier after the painful shot. My knee doesn't buckle when I'm trying to leave a restaurant, and that, serious eaters, is a welcome departure from the last few months.
Slow and steady wins the race, or that's what they say, so I'm hoping that I at least lost a pound. Interim weigh-ins during the week have been trending in the right direction.
Here we go: 222. Same as last week. Maybe it was the weight of all the lubricant Evan shot into my knees. But no matter. I'm in a decent frame of mind, and my knee may be on the mend.