Playing With My Food: The Strength To Win

 Did I dive in? Read to find out who won. Fate or Will Power.

                In a moment of weakness, I left my meal choice up to fate. It's been more than a year since I've been to Texas Roadhouse for  a meal. I was fine passing by the display case that advertised the 10 to 16 oz. steaks. They winked at me. I waved, but I proceeded with my husband to our table in confidence and the will to stick to a low sodium meal. "Those steaks aren't going to throw me off course," I thought to myself. Then the waitress reminded me that I was in the home of the fresh-baked rolls and cinnamon butter. Mmmm. I knew they would be hot coming to the table. "I'm not sure I can pass those babies up." I say with my eyebrows dancing to a distant memory.

                As we waited for Amber to return with our drinks (I ordered water with a lemon), I remembered the menu was full of barbecue and down home favorites---pulled pork, ribs, and fried catfish, or smothered chicken. I had a few hundred milligrams of sodium to spare from my daily intake of 1500, but I was sure a forkful of any of those choices would do me in for the weekend. Then it happened. Half-way down the side of page 4 on the menu, my eyes gazed upon a special treat I was introduced to in the 80s---country-fried sirloin. The description had my stomach sweating: "hand-battered, fresh-cut sirloin served crispy and golden, topped with made-from-scratch cream gravy." This little devil had to be paired with one of the "legendary sides," mashed potatoes and gravy. The fresh veggies would be my guilt free food. My palette was ready for a cheat day. I am, however, reminded of a recent household discussion: Can any of us really afford a cheat day? One cheat day turns into two, then three, then four, and before you know it, a month worth of cheat days will send us back to square one.

                Quick flashbacks to the hospital and thoughts of you, my readers, tugged at me. Then my anxious stomach kept tugging at me. "Feed me the goodies. Feed me the goodies!" There was only one way for me to come to a solution. I used the eenie meenie miney mo method (with appropriate lyrics). Childish? Very. Politically incorrect? I realized this after feeling a bit uneasy about the origin of the lyrics as soon as my fingers skipped between each of the meal choices. (I slowed down with the old rhyme thinking of the derogatory origin before ending). I sat for a hot moment embarrassed and ashamed. I was even more uncomfortable when my husband looked at me with puzzled eyes wondering why I was playing hop scotch and mouthing silent words with the menu. I was glad we were in a corner booth.

                As fate would have it, I landed on the country fried sirloin. I licked my chops, then I thought of you again and  the lovely IV drips awaiting me if I pushed the envelope too far.  In the end, I chose the 6 oz. steak (480 mg), with steamed veggies (0 mg), and a sweet potato with cinnamon, brown sugar, and butter (110 mg). Drink? Water with a lemon. As for the hot, buttered rolls? Shh! I may have eaten one...and stole one of my husband's chili cheese fries. I'm still a work in progress, but I commit to holding the salt every meal I can.

               Here's to your journey. Feel free to share your moment of weakness and how you came to a solution with your particular health quest. Send entries to yoyo1913@hotmail.com.

-Y

Disclaimer, it is also suggested that I limit the amount of protein in my diet, especially beef. So Texas Roadhouse is a once in a Bahama blue moon treat. I promise.

Note: Source of pic is unknown.