The Familiar, Anew

I've been tracking my food and nutritional intake for the last few days, and can't help but marvel at how valuable the information is.
At the same time, I'm also feeling a growing and familiar resistance to capturing this information (including the measurement of the quantities of foods I consume). I wrote about this in August (Longing to Linger Longer in the Vague). It is as if I want to rebel against myself for having to be this conscious, for being required to know what goes in my mouth and how it affects me.
A few minutes ago I was making a shopping list, and checked out my blueberry supply. Now, blueberries are a wonderful food, and mostly carbohydrate. I have been keeping my carbs to about 30 40 grams daily and, to do that, one really needs to be conscious and careful about what goes in the mouth.
So what do I do? I sneak a forkful of berries, and feel like I'd gotten away with something. Who am I sneaking this from? Myself. Who am I harming/not treating well by not measuring the food? Myself.
It is as if there is a collision between old behavior I developed growing up and the needs I have as an adult trying to live differently with food. Put differently, I don't need to rebel or sneak food from myself, yet somehow I gain an emotional kick from coloring outside the nutritional lines, as it were.