Peso-dilla

Joder. Here we go again.

There's a reason why I don't particularly like canned tuna. Canned tuna, to me, is deprivation food. There's sacrifice. And there's deprivation. Sacrifice is working hard to reach your goal. Deprivation is desperation when you feel like nothing else you've tried is working. And when I got on the scale this morning and saw the weight - 73.7 kg (162 lbs) - I thought. Oh, God, here we go again. Six months of tuna and Wasa bread to get down to weight for Quebrantahuesos.

You're going to be at 72 kg at the end of the month - no ifs, ands or buts, Yago wrote the other day. And I thought I was on track. Looking at my watch, which also records estimates of the number of calories I burn when I work out, I've burned just under 12,000 calories - and there are how many calories in a pound, 3500? I haven't had any huge, disgusting meals since New Year's Eve. I haven't had a drink since then either, and I can count on one hand the number of cans of full-on sugary drinks, like Coke, I've consumed (and it's always to rehydrate and get more sodium in my system on Saturday and Sunday rides.)

So what's changed? Well, I certainly eat more carbohydrates than I did before. A LOT more. And supposedly, I need these, and I've made more conscious choices to burn "clean carbs", as Chris Carmichael calls them - but hell, does this mean that I'm going to have to manage a perennial tango between getting just enough food and trying not to bonk every time I stand up?

I guess it's back to the Weight Watchers rigamarole of writing down EVERYTHING I eat. And I mean everything. I thought that controlling the quality of what I eat would go a long way towards helping, but it's obviously not enough. So: butter (and I thought I was being a lot better with the butter) goes in the freezer, only to be used for cooking. Cut back on the Nesquik. (I know that that was a big one right there.) More brown rice, less white rice. More veggies to snack on. Buy a food scale (and DON'T get me started about how expensive food scales are in Spain!)

I didn't want to be obsessed with food but it's looking like there isn't any other option. But I draw the line at canned tuna. Fresh tuna? Fine. But canned tuna has too many bad memories of deprivation and self-hate and depression. That's a line I just don't wanna cross.