That's a Wrap
Well, this is fascinating.
I weighed in on Saturday morning at 184.0 pounds, which is UP three-quarters of a pound from last week. Flummoxed, but not too upset, I figured it was a correction from last week's (also) inexplicable 3.6 loss. I also suspected that Howard might have stolen some of my weight loss, since he reported a 5.2 pound dip (bastard!), doing more or less exactly what I did all week. I can't really blame my period, since I was only on Day 18 Saturday, and I hadn't cheated AT ALL this week at work, a feat in itself, since the Suck-Up Sales Reps came out in formation against me. They sent cookies the size of footballs and "holiday baskets" that resembled more of a stash from a Cheese Freak than anything sensible for a Weight Watcher like me. I don't expect the Suck-Ups to remember my state of being or my current crusade, but I do expect them to send me something a little less "hippy" as in, 'make me look more ____' once I've eaten all the almond-dusted, chocolate-covered, braised-in-alcohol Evils.
I did what any panicked dieter would do, and set every item right next to this big guy in my department. He teeters somewhere near 7 feet tall, and he's about 19 years old, so he has the metabolism of a jackrabbit on jet fuel. I plopped them down on his desk and demanded that he sit there until every crumb disappeared. He gave me a wink and smiled, licking his lips. "I won't disappoint you, Amy." Phew! And thank you.
And still, somehow the pounds stuck AND accumulated on my frame. How rude! I went over my spreadsheet, looking carefully for hidden calories, combing my memory for forgotten Rack of Lambs that I had neglected to catalog, and secretly chastising myself for continuing to live as a couch potato. I no longer eat like a root vegetable, but clearly I'm going to continue looking like one if I don't start trotting on the treadmill. Okay, then. I surrender. Bring for the conveyor belt; I'll put my floppy flesh upon it.
I'm surprised by my Zen at the whole thing, but I really didn't do anything wrong. Or so I thought.
Howard and I found this place called Great Wraps a few weeks ago. It's right next to a Subway and it offers steamed/grilled wraps that are a zillion times tastier than the Goodyears-Posing-As-Chicken-Breast fare at my previous favorite sandwich shop. I've been going there nearly every day, ordering the chicken wrap with nothing but lettuce, tomato, and a little teriyaki sauce to dress it up. The wrap is a standard 12-inch jobbie, and since they don't baste it like they do their other creations, I thought I was safe.
The normal low-carb, high fiber wrap that Howard and I use for weekend turkey/tomato combos is an 80-calorie delight, with fourteen crunchy grams of fiber and only 1 lone fat gram. In Weight Watchers terms, it's a 1-point food. I figured that while the Great Wraps couldn't be so amazing, it was likely a standard tortilla, with about 100 calories, 2 grams of fat and a little fiber.
Wrong. This nasty, evil, suck-me-in flour devil is three hundred and twenty calories, and 10 fat grams. TEN! That is 6 points in Weight Watcher-land. I only get twenty-four points in the whole day! Six points, and I had been eating these things 3 or 4 times a week for the last 3 weeks. My weight gain is a mystery no more.
So, okay. Breathing....though much harder to do since my 100% denim size 10 jeans are cutting off the circulation in my tummy. Never, ever trust a restaurant--even one that looks healthy and appears to care about your figure. Ten fat grams. I can't even get into the carb count. Normally, I don't eat 16 fat grams all day, and this FLOUR tortilla that was not braised in butter has 10. So, out goes the Not-So-Great-Wraps, even though my next sandwich is free. Free. Ha! Only if 'free' means, 'free to jump up a size in those no-stretch jeans you were about to throw out.' Instead, I'm throwing out my Frequent Eater card. If I'm going to frequent-eat, I'm going back to the crunchy wraps.
On the up side, Howard found a fat-free hummus recipe, and he made us Grilled Shrimp and hummus wraps for dinner. Now those were Great Wraps.
So long, you Monsters of Deception. I have learned this lesson the hard way. I shan't have to repeat it. Great Wraps, indeed. Seems more like Great Traps.
A the U(nwrapped)
I weighed in on Saturday morning at 184.0 pounds, which is UP three-quarters of a pound from last week. Flummoxed, but not too upset, I figured it was a correction from last week's (also) inexplicable 3.6 loss. I also suspected that Howard might have stolen some of my weight loss, since he reported a 5.2 pound dip (bastard!), doing more or less exactly what I did all week. I can't really blame my period, since I was only on Day 18 Saturday, and I hadn't cheated AT ALL this week at work, a feat in itself, since the Suck-Up Sales Reps came out in formation against me. They sent cookies the size of footballs and "holiday baskets" that resembled more of a stash from a Cheese Freak than anything sensible for a Weight Watcher like me. I don't expect the Suck-Ups to remember my state of being or my current crusade, but I do expect them to send me something a little less "hippy" as in, 'make me look more ____' once I've eaten all the almond-dusted, chocolate-covered, braised-in-alcohol Evils.
I did what any panicked dieter would do, and set every item right next to this big guy in my department. He teeters somewhere near 7 feet tall, and he's about 19 years old, so he has the metabolism of a jackrabbit on jet fuel. I plopped them down on his desk and demanded that he sit there until every crumb disappeared. He gave me a wink and smiled, licking his lips. "I won't disappoint you, Amy." Phew! And thank you.
And still, somehow the pounds stuck AND accumulated on my frame. How rude! I went over my spreadsheet, looking carefully for hidden calories, combing my memory for forgotten Rack of Lambs that I had neglected to catalog, and secretly chastising myself for continuing to live as a couch potato. I no longer eat like a root vegetable, but clearly I'm going to continue looking like one if I don't start trotting on the treadmill. Okay, then. I surrender. Bring for the conveyor belt; I'll put my floppy flesh upon it.
I'm surprised by my Zen at the whole thing, but I really didn't do anything wrong. Or so I thought.
Howard and I found this place called Great Wraps a few weeks ago. It's right next to a Subway and it offers steamed/grilled wraps that are a zillion times tastier than the Goodyears-Posing-As-Chicken-Breast fare at my previous favorite sandwich shop. I've been going there nearly every day, ordering the chicken wrap with nothing but lettuce, tomato, and a little teriyaki sauce to dress it up. The wrap is a standard 12-inch jobbie, and since they don't baste it like they do their other creations, I thought I was safe.
The normal low-carb, high fiber wrap that Howard and I use for weekend turkey/tomato combos is an 80-calorie delight, with fourteen crunchy grams of fiber and only 1 lone fat gram. In Weight Watchers terms, it's a 1-point food. I figured that while the Great Wraps couldn't be so amazing, it was likely a standard tortilla, with about 100 calories, 2 grams of fat and a little fiber.
Wrong. This nasty, evil, suck-me-in flour devil is three hundred and twenty calories, and 10 fat grams. TEN! That is 6 points in Weight Watcher-land. I only get twenty-four points in the whole day! Six points, and I had been eating these things 3 or 4 times a week for the last 3 weeks. My weight gain is a mystery no more.
So, okay. Breathing....though much harder to do since my 100% denim size 10 jeans are cutting off the circulation in my tummy. Never, ever trust a restaurant--even one that looks healthy and appears to care about your figure. Ten fat grams. I can't even get into the carb count. Normally, I don't eat 16 fat grams all day, and this FLOUR tortilla that was not braised in butter has 10. So, out goes the Not-So-Great-Wraps, even though my next sandwich is free. Free. Ha! Only if 'free' means, 'free to jump up a size in those no-stretch jeans you were about to throw out.' Instead, I'm throwing out my Frequent Eater card. If I'm going to frequent-eat, I'm going back to the crunchy wraps.
On the up side, Howard found a fat-free hummus recipe, and he made us Grilled Shrimp and hummus wraps for dinner. Now those were Great Wraps.
So long, you Monsters of Deception. I have learned this lesson the hard way. I shan't have to repeat it. Great Wraps, indeed. Seems more like Great Traps.
A the U(nwrapped)
posted by Eva Tentous | 8:56 PM
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