Diet Day 0. It’s the Sunday before my personal D-Day, the Monday on which I have vowed to begin a Diet. I had not made this a New Year’s resolution despite the fact that I have noted some new fat cells ganging up around my middle. Cut yourself some slack, I told myself. Body positivity was the new antidote for muffin tops. And for the past six months I had been doing just fine. My clothes still fit, though with slightly more pinch, and I hadn’t yet confronted myself in a bathing suit, which continued to lay dry and neatly folded in a drawer.
The spoiler, it pains me to admit, was my well-meaning husband, who, on an otherwise sunny Thursday morning, while I was dressing, got my attention with an “Ahem, honey…”. As I stood before him in my underwear, I knew this would not be good. The “honey” was the dead giveaway. Not that I wasn’t still sexy, but had my tummy put on some weight recently?
After a sensitive discussion about how tummy fat was bad for your health, and he had only brought it to my attention for my own good, and not that I wasn’t still sexy, I dropped the shoe I was about to fling at his head. I forgave him, and confessed that his observation, was, in fact, correct. Perhaps a diet was in order to nip this in the bud before it swelled into an entire bouquet. And when he said he’d diet with me because his middle could use some shrinking as well, the pact was sealed. How nice that he was being so supportive, or was it the fact that I was still holding the other shoe?
So today, Sunday was our swan song, The Last Breakfast, Lunch, and Supper before the two weeks of deprivation were to commence. I decided to indulge in a sinful breakfast, adhering to the philosophy that there’s nothing that prepares you for sacrifice like a nice, plump, crusty bagel with all the trimmings. I fully expect subsequent meal decisions for the next 12 hours to also throw calories to the wind.
Fully sated, I was ready for the next step, which was to exorcise the refrigerator and pantry of all tempting demon carbs. This led to a number of difficult decisions, such as what to do with the barely used packages of bread. Shall I freeze the remainder or plan to eat them for dinner? Unable to find a recipe calling for 5 English muffins, I stuffed them in the freezer.
The half-consumed bag of chips sitting on my counter was another dilemma. Chips are my downfall so they must be dispensed with. Finding the idea of frozen chips very unappealing, I ate them.
And down the list I went. The remainder of the Ben and Jerry’s container lay melting in the sink, and I admit to shedding a tear as my 3 remaining Fig Newtons fell to the bottom of the garbage pail.
Finally, nothing but protein and vegetables stared back at me from the frig. Except for the Cool Whip, which I decided to keep because I don’t believe there are many calories in chemicals posing as food. And I felt virtuous. Bring on Monday. I was ready!
Diet Day 1. Monday. Breakfast consisted of two eggs, scrambled, and coffee. That’s it! I thought about sucking on one of those frozen English muffins, but reminded self that I was a warrior! Decided to forego mid-morning snack of low-fat cheese wrapped in plastic. Cheese just shouldn’t be that shiny. Saved taste buds for lunch-time’s healthy salad washed down with a glass of water. Dinner this evening real test of dedication. Had prior plans to meet friends at an Italian restaurant. Managed not to drool over bread basket. Merely inhaled the spaghetti bolognese while eating broiled fish and broccoli with one hand. Sat on other hand to prevent grabbing a sip from friend’s wine glass. Went to restroom while they ordered dessert. Day 1 over. Victory was mine!
Diet Day 2. Tuesday. Breakfast consisted of two eggs, scrambled, and coffee. Desire for frozen English muffin not as strong as yesterday. I am a warrior! Another healthy salad for lunch. Indulged in second glass of water. Dinner at home tonight. One bunless burger sitting in middle of plate. Pretended carrot sticks were french fries. Sad! Washed it all down with club soda. Sure do miss that glass of wine.
Diet Day 3. Wednesday. Sucked in tummy and stepped on scale. Lost 1\2 pound. He lost 2. Just might fling that shoe after all. Breakfast consisted of two eggs…(you know the rest.) Visions of English muffins being replaced by images of pancakes. Won’t bore you with reports of today’s remaining food allowance. Must post this essay before I faint from sugar withdrawal. Two weeks from now, if not hospitalized, I shall report our results. Or not. There’s always CoolSculpting. So glad I saved those brochures!