Of Pounds and Pounds

Oh the challenges of staying healthy on a transatlantic trip

One of the great things (maybe the best thing?) about traveling is the insight I get into who I really am. Who I am out of my constructed world where I have so much control. Lying in the early AM of my third day in England I came to the conclusion about why being in control of my body is such a gift. It is the control itself. For so much of my life I was completely out of control with regard to food. But now I finally, FINALLY get it and the past 48 hours has reminded me of why I treasure it so, in that it has been impossible to maintain. 

I had pretty grand ideas about my dash over to the UK, imaging that I would hop off the plane and resume my normal day. Theory and practice have crashed into each other, as is quite often the case. 

It started off as I image, and despite the large time difference I actually had no trouble falling asleep when I got to my hotel, even though it was 6 pm EST when I went to bed. I actually slept past my regular wake up time and got up around 5:45 GMT. I looked at the hotel menu and decided beans on toast was not going to help me reach my protein goals, so I headed to the local Starbucks hoping to find cuisine more relatable to my objectives—1900 calories and 200 grams of protein. 

I found the place easy enough and ordered my Americano just like I like it. But the food failed to meet neither my palate nor my caloric demands. I have never really cared for sausage and it seems sausage is a basic building block for so many dishes, in and out of Starbucks. The other challenge was the UK nutritional labelling system, which is dramatically different than the flawed system I at least understand back in the US (luckily my gold card helped me with the pounds and pence issue I faced prior to my first sip of caffeine). 

The EU nutrition labelling is a little much for my provincial brain. Based on what I can tell it helps one compare different foods based on the same metric, but outside of that I am still flummoxed by the entire thing. Sometimes I think I get it—a small yogurt appears to have 133 calories (seemingly low, even for about 6 ounces) but I’m recording it that way. But other things have clearly been far outside of what I know to be correct (I could not make heads or tails out of the information on sliced turkey) so I am just going with my what it would be in the US.

Another  on-going issue causing concerns is my continued inability to fully recover from jet lag, which continues to effect my energy. When we are short on energy one of the things our bodies does is to look for other energy sources—like food. I’m not making bad food choices but the increasing need for food combined with the ability to accurately record my food makes me unhappy. 

Yesterday, between the Victoria & Albert (about what I thought it would be) and seeing Witness for the Prosecution (worse than hoped for but then increasingly better in the second act) I went to the GNC website to find someone, anyone. who could help me better understand the EU nutrition information and sell me some protein bars and shakes to get me back on track. Healthy nutrition is so easy to find in the US but no so much here. Eventually a store called Holland & Barrett delivered the sort of supplemental bars and drinks I needed to get back on course. 

I’m about to head out to find a Starbucks open at 6 AM on Christmas Eve, eat from my pre-packed bag of protein and go to the gym. Then I”m going to a classic pantomime, leave that early to have a A Christmas Carol walking tour and then ask the tour guide for a tip on great fish and chips, where I have budgeted half a piece of fish and a small fry. And to conclude my awesome Christmas Eve in London, high tea at the last Playboy Club in the world, located in Mayfair. Check my Twitter feed @DavidEzell for a pic of me and a bunny sipping a toast to Mr. Hefner.