Eating everything and walking everywhere, or Aug. holiday ’15

13 Aug

You know how some parents make their kids smoke an entire pack of cigarettes to make them never want to smoke again? I think I did that to myself this past week with food. For nine days I basically ate nothing but carbs and sugar, from Portuguese custard tarts to Belgian waffles, chocolates and fries. Nothing was off limits, and now all I’m craving is roast vegetables. I never want to eat another waffle or praline again (…or at least not for a few months).

Our Portuguese and Belgian holiday was a success in every way that a holiday can be — for nine days I completely forgot about work, running and healthy eating, everything that consumes my daily life in London. It was a refreshing reprieve, but now that I’m back I’m realizing how important those three things in my life are. I did manage to run once while in Brussels at the hotel gym. The treadmill was in Dutch and all I could think of was Dr. Evil:

dr evil dreaky deaky dutch
Fun fact: Dr. Evil is supposedly from Bruges, Belgium where they speak — wait for it — Dutch.

thats the jokeFor most people, a dream holiday is lying on a beach. I am not a beach person. I would much rather lie in bed at a nice hotel with the comforts of free WiFi and AC. I did a lot of that this holiday, plus walking and exploring (and eating — have I mentioned the eating yet?). I think this was my first real walking holiday where I didn’t end each day feeling exhausted — in fact, some days I continued to walk in tiny circles around the hotel room to get even more Fitbit steps. I remember back in college my roommate and I went to Vegas for spring break. We tried to walk the entirety of the Strip, but crapped out halfway. We took “we’re crapped out” selfies (before they were called selfies) while sitting on a bench in the Fashion Show Mall. At the end of our trip my feet were so sore from walking that I literally crawled to the bathroom on my knees on our last night (my roommate has photographic proof). I was a hot mess hobbling around at the airport the next day — not because I was drunk or hungover like everyone else, but because I could not handle walking 2 to 3 miles a day in sneakers. Now I sometimes walk 2 miles around my flat in my slippers just after breakfast. One of these days I need to return to Vegas just to prove I can walk from Mandalay Bay to Circus Circus. My Fitbit walking may not have helped me lose weight (see above about waffles and chocolates), but it’s definitely helped my overall fitness.

More posts about Portugal and Belgium (with photos) to come!


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