turns out tattoo conventions are just like music festivals, just without the music. you get a wristband and sit in the sun with your pals all weekend, working on your tan, ogling weird people and having the same conversations time and again ("last year, xyz was better/worse", "really love what yxyz is doing this year"). every once in a while you walk around the grounds to check out what's happening and what everyone's up to, and there's also lots of (free) beer by day and spirits by night.
and the food is crappy.
the food on the backstage menu (the bf did a body art performance at that convention) pretty much sucked for a dieting vegetarian (greasy veggie lasanga! plain pasta that tasted like bacon! iceberg lettuce!), and when i woke up superhungry on sunday, with all shops closed and without any protein bars left, i quite simply gave up trying and had apple pastry for brekkie, pizza for lunch and cake for dinner.
i wish i was exaggerating, but that's exactly what i did (i just wanted to write "happened" but that kinda sounds like it wasn't my responsibility. oy). the rest stop food i settled for on our drive home were salt & pepper crackers. discovered, btw, that regular crackers have the same fat content as low-fat chips, which is certainly good to know. i was still enjoying it by lunch (the pizza was really, really nice and thin and lovely), but during our late-night drive home, doubtlessly on a carb high from the dinner-cake, i was struggling and lusting for more carbs, cookies, crackers. and i was hating myself, as i reached for my second piece of white toblerone. oh yes. but just briefly.
that's all over, and done, and can't be undone. was a bit of a binge compared to what i've been eating like these past few months, and definitely way above my points, but it was nowhere near as bad as it would have been say two years ago, or five years ago, or at any other time, really. this was a few glasses of panache (beer with lemonade), an unhealthy breakfast (half the size of a regular breakfast of past days), a delicious pizza, a second piece of cake, a second piece of chocolate, a second cookie. there were no thirds.
my eating was bad, yes, but not a nightmare, not a total failure. just a weekend of crappy eating. that is over. this morning, the scale showed a pound more than at my last weigh-in, a week ago, and i have no doubt that this was retained water from the damn salty crackers, alone, and not real gain of whatever kind.
i'll properly hop on the scale for me weigh-in and my photo for the accountability pool tomorrow morning. after a day of regular, healthy eating, obviously.
it's all good, really. i'm not a failure. this is hard, i did as good as i could, i should try harder next time. i had a great weekend, i really and throughoutly enjoyed myself. i just wish i had planned better, and quite simply had brought more food. both france and the benelux are notoriously bad foodwise when travelling, and i just didn't think about it in advance and just wasn't prepared. and when you fail to prepare, you prepare to fail.
this tiny little weekend trip was a good test run for my holiday with the bf at the end of september, when we're heading for the south of france. and it's great that i failed so spectacularly now. i'll be packing a shitload of fruit and veges for the drive, oh yes.
and now i'll go and peel my carrots for lunch.
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