Ahh... Vacation.  The mere sound of the word makes you think of cocktails and beaches, leisurely dinners out, and ice cream cones.  At least it does for me.  When I think of vacation, I think of food.  Sad?  Yes.  True?  Yes.  I'm not sure where it comes from, but vacation is the ultimate indulgence, and that means both in terms of accommodations, activities, and FOOD!  This does not however bode well for my insistence on eventually losing a total of 105+ pounds and getting to goal!

Last year I spent a week in Montana visiting my family.  My reward was a 6 pound gain.  I was stunned.  I thought, "How could I have let this happen?"  I blamed my family for feeding my, and pouring wine for me (you know who you are), and I knew that without their "help"  I certainly wouldn't have gained that much weight.  I vowed to never let it happen again.  I was different now. 

Along comes my next vacation.  10 days in British Columbia June 30- July 10.  I had big resolutions for this vacation.  I was going to run.  I was going to bike.  I was going to make the right choices - at least 90% of the time.  It happened... sometimes.  Sometimes, it didn't.  I had the days where I walked 5+ miles... in fact that was most days except the last 2 or so.  I had the days where I made excellent food decisions (last Monday - fruit yogurt for breakfast, salmon spinach salad for lunch with low-fat raspberry vinaigrette, and a smoked salmon brie strawberry pizza on honey whole wheat crust for dinner.  I won't mention the 2 Hefeweizen beers... they don't count, right?).  And I had days with Scones and Gelatos and Fish and Chips.  So I did it both ways.  I thought, maybe I will gain a couple of pounds, no big deal, I can handle that... wrong!  I was up to 5 pounds Sunday morning and this morning on the scale.  WTF?  Sorry, but seriously, WTF?  I was better than last vacation.  My family wasn't around.  Could it be me responsible for this?