I’ve always loved Halloween. Where I grew up, Palm Desert, California, usually would start cooling down for the fall, and it was the start of the holiday season. Back when I would trick-or-treat, some houses would give away little bags of homemade treats. The razor blade hysteria didn’t start until I was older. We walked the dark streets—no streetlights or sidewalks back then—with a parent hovering. When I was in junior high, the first dance of the year was on Halloween, so all those hormone-fueled glances in class could come to fruition or frustration.
Halloween also meant the sale of those single-serving candy bags. I mean those bags of “fun size” candy that I’d eat in one day. In theory, the “fun size” is a good idea in that you can get your candy fix in a small dose. But like the old Lays potato chip ads, betcha can’t eat just one.
This year I didn’t buy any candy until last night, when I picked up a small bag at my daughter’s request. I don’t know why she wanted it because she’ll be out partying with her pals. It’s not open yet, so that’s a good sign for me.
This weekend was a mixed bag. My shopping trips didn’t bring the amount of exercise I’d hoped for. One of those trips was to Costco, so you know how that was. I didn’t eat badly, just lots of tiny bites, so I likely didn’t get near enough protein. And today we had a Halloween party and I ate some cupcakes. It was a one-time thing, so it won’t do much damage. Over the weekend my weight went up slightly, 1.3 pounds, but I expect that to drop quickly. I’m not going to worry unless it lingers longer. Starting this moment, I’m back on track.
Of course, now that the holidays are starting, it’s the season of dietary pitfalls. All I can do is my best, make sure I eat the good food I’m supposed to, and to ward off the things that I probably shouldn’t.
See you tomorrow.