Do you think it’s easier to stick with healthy eating when you’re on your own, or with a partner?
(or sibling, housemate, etc)
I have pondered this one many times, especially since shacking up with the Scotsman. There are advantages and disadvantages with both…
- Somebody to share the cooking and cleaning
I tend to do most of the cooking and Dr G does the cleaning up. It works for us – he chops vegetables too slowly for my liking; I leave too many "bits" on the dishes for his liking.
- Not wanting to look like a greedy lard arse
Gareth doesn’t pass judgement on what I eat, but I still feel less inclined to scarf down a third chocolate biscuit if there’s other people around.
Despite my diligent menu planning, if either of us is tired or grumpy it can take very little cajoling to ditch the Plan and have cheese on toast or a takeaway.
- I’ll have what he’s having
Gareth likes a quiet beer and a bag of crisps some evenings, and even though I’m not a beer and crisp person, I feel compelled to eat something just because he is. So there.
- Man Portions
I still struggle with a childish sense of, "But but but! His slice of cake is bigger than MINE!" My body simply does not need as much food as Gareth’s, but I still resent the fact and find it difficult not to dish up the same portions for myself.
I eat very simply when I’m on my own. Poached egg on toast. Fish or veggie burger with salad. I’ll make a pot of soup and eat it four nights in a row. Mostly because I’m too lazy to make a mess of the kitchen! But also when Dr G is in the house I feel like I should make the meal more exciting and less snacky, despite him being a lot less bothered about what we eat for dinner than I am.
- Easy routines
Gareth has been working away for a few days and as usual I’ve slipped into healthy little robot mode – packing my lunch the night before, organising my breakfast, cooking dinners for later in the week, doing all my planned exercise. When he’s here, I can easily use him as an excuse. I often go looking for distractions – yapping away when I get home from work, asking him does he want a cuppa instead of doing my weights DVD… next thing it’s 8PM and we can’t be arsed cooking dinner.
- No witnesses
There are times when I still wrestle with the old "Quick! Eat while noone’s looking" mentality. As I said earlier, Gareth doesn’t give a rats’ what I eat, but there is something about being home alone that makes me look at the Hillwalking Snickers bars in the fridge that I can normally ignore and the wheels start turning… How many were there the other day? Would he notice if I ate one? Would I have time to replace it?!