After last week’s minor breakdown over not seeing any changes on the scale, I finally had an “AHA!” moment. Well, I can’t actually take full credit for my realization. Being the mama’s girl that I am, I must publicly thank my mommy for snapping me out of my funk and breaking up my pity party (cue sappy ode to mi madre aqui). Dr. Mommy (she has a doctorate in education, just thought I’d brag a little), you’re right!
She broke it all the way down to one simple statement. “What you’ve been doing is maintenance. You have to do something drastic to kick start your weight loss.” No, she’s not talking about liposuction, something I have considered if I ever hit the lottery. (P.S. I’ve never played the lottery, so if I suddenly won that in itself would be a miracle.) She means not just eating better and exercising, but actually going on some sort of strict diet (you all know how much I loathe that word) to get myself into gear.
Just thinking about it makes me want to hurl myself off the tallest building. My inner fat girl voice is screaming, “What do you mean I have to stop eating bread, white sugar and carbs?!? This can’t be life, people!” as she throws herself to the ground screaming like a toddler having a temper tantrum in line at the grocery store.
My beau is a carbotarian (a vegetarian who loves carbs), so how in the heck will it be possible for the two of us to sit down for a meal as I watch him devour a plate of yummy spaghetti while I eat bark and medicinal leaves? I might be exaggerating a little. I don’t really eat carbs much, so to limit/eliminate them wouldn’t be a sign of “the end of days.” It’s just that I have a hard time going cold turkey with things, even if they aren’t something I eat often.
The newest goal here is to thrust myself into a hard-core, no holds barred system of kicking my own rear into gear and doing something “drastic” to get this show on the road. Since I’m a little bit of a coward, and a Capricorn (meaning I can be highly critical of myself), I’ll take baby steps and start off with a three-day diet. Day one begins with black coffee or tea with two packets of Sweet & Low or Equal (reminds me of my grandmother), half of a grapefruit, a piece of toast and a smidgen of peanut butter. Splendid! If I can’t stick to three days of eating in a regimented way, then I call on all of you reading this to pray heavily for me. All the help I can get to exorcise this Earl demon would be graciously appreciated.
The highlight of this “diet” is that I can eat vanilla ice cream. Oh joy! You can’t see the lack of enthusiasm on my face right now, but trust me, it’s there. Granted, this “diet” is of one of those fad diets that boasts quick results if followed properly. It claims that you can lose up to 10 pounds, mostly fluid weight.
This mission will then place me in either one of two moods: A) pleased with my jump start to shedding the poundage and ready to take over the world like Pinky and the Brain or B) sitting in the corner foaming at the mouth eating pint after pint of Chunky Monkey and graphically threatening how I would violently dismember whomever tried to pry me away from pure decadence and binge eating.
After the three days, I plan to take it easy and consume mostly fruits and veggies over the weekend, then kick back into gear with an AWESOME seven-day diet I found on my latest addiction, Pinterest. (Thanks Janelle Q. for the daily distractions). This meal plan is classier. You get to eat things like poached salmon, baked acorn squash with a pinch of cinnamon and Jambalaya. Oh yes, baby, now we’re cooking! This plan is a treat in itself because of the variety. How often does one dine on broiled flounder with plum tomatoes sprinkled with grated Parmesian cheese? Not this PB&J chick.
Now that I got my motivation back, (GIANT thanks and hugs to all the commenters on the last post), I’m looking forward to these diets. There, I said it. The first step to recovery is admitting you have a problem, right? So thanks to Dr. Mommy and her stating the obvious, I’m going to take the reigns of this weight-loss journey and not let numbers on the scale defeat me. It’s just Earl and me, and this is the grand finale shoot out. My guns are locked and loaded.
Leilah Reese is a news aide at The Washington Post. For more updates on her fitness goal of losing 32 pounds before turning 32, follow her on Twitter and check here each Tuesday for a new blog post.
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