Victor Victorious

I did it! I did it!

Every Wednesday I meet friends at a local bakery. We sit around a table and visit while we eat delicious baked goodness. I’ve avoided going the last three weeks. Well, today I went.

Since I was riding high on my successful weight loss last week, I figured I could handle it. I ate breakfast before I left so I wouldn’t be hungry. I figured I didn’t need that sort of strain on my willpower. I walked in and my friends sat around our table with bear claws, cinnamon rolls, and donuts of every size and flavor.

I went up to the counter. The only thing between me and baked heaven was a thin piece of glass and my will. I paid for my bottled water and joined my friends. I sat there and watched them savor their treats as I drank my water and I felt nothing.

Nothing.

I didn’t want any of it and it made me feel so triumphant -- like I can totally do this.

In fact the only drag about the whole excursion was the fielding of the, “Why aren’t you having anything,” questions. I answered with, “I’m not hungry.” They just couldn’t believe that I didn’t want anything. If money was tight they could spot me something. If the bakery was out of what I wanted they’d trade me something.

I have great friends, well-meaning friends, but they just couldn’t understand why I didn’t want anything. Finally I had to tell them I’d decided baked goods and I were on a little break. They all got that knowing look in their eye that clearly said I’d be back together with baked goodness sooner rather than later. I felt compelled to tell them that it’d been three weeks and that I’d lost nearly 10 pounds that I know of. It was worth it to tell them to see their jaws drop.

I felt vindicated. And while I know that, eventually, I will have an urge for something of the baked delicious nature and give into the craving, it still felt good to give my willpower the ultimate test and pass it with flying colors.

I walked away from the bakery field of battle victorious. And that feels better than any bear claw could ever taste.

Fabulous Finish to the Week

How did it get to be Sunday, already? Seems like just last week I pulled out the scale and dusted it off -- oh, that’s right, it was last week. So, as promised, I dragged out the scale again this morning and ignored its pleas for pity.

I closed my eyes, stood on it, took a deep breath -- and looked down.

Jumping Jelly Donuts! It read I weighed 307.7 pounds. I hopped off and then stepped back on and sure enough -- 307.7 blinked at me again. I’ve lost 7.8 pounds in the last week. I’ll confess I screamed. It was fabulous.

I realize I won’t get these results every Sunday, nor should I on a regular basis -- too much rapid weight loss is dangerous. However, I think it’s an awesome kickoff to my lifestyle change. The rigorous eating plan I’m following now is for the first twenty to twenty-five pounds, to get my body jumpstarted into weight loss mode. After I hit that first milestone, I plan on incorporating a less intensive meal plan so I can lose weight steadily while making sure it’s something I can live with on the long term. Food Nazi can equal Binge Blowout. This is something I want to avoid at all costs.

As for how the eating is going -- sticking to my regime on some days has been harder than others. But today it’s all been made worth it. My goals have been reaffirmed and I’ve got a definite spring to my step.

Being nearly eight pounds lighter will do that to a girl.

Saying Painful Goodbyes

With my first weigh-in looming on the Sunday horizon (yes I’m finally going to get on the scale and see the terrors that await me), I’ve decided to be more proactive than just eating half portions. I’ve now moved on to Phase 2 of the Great Plan of Attack: concentrating not only on how much but what exactly I’m putting into my body -- with emphasis on making sure it’s good for me. Yes, the joys of my new lifestyle are without number.

In the past, I was the queen of fad diets. If there was a new miracle get-thin-quick scheme I was the first lined up to try it. I lived the horror that was the Cabbage Soup 24/7 Diet, jumped on board with Tommy Lasorda and Ultra SlimFast plan, survived eating bacon and mayonnaise with Atkins, tried every diet pill ever invented, and anything in between. Some I had better success with than others but they all ended the same. When I stopped, I gained all the weight back and then some. Apparently, I hadn’t lost the weight. I’d just momentarily misplaced it while it multiplied like bunnies.

While none of the fads worked, I decided not to let that knowledge from having done them go to waste. Why not take everything I liked or made sense from the multitudes I’ve tried and meld them into an Average Jane lifestyle change? So that’s exactly what I’ve done.

I did mention that the joys are without number? Well, I’m numbering them. I will be creative and eat a healthy diet following these few, simple rules:

1.) No processed sugar. Truly the most painful rule.

2.) If it doesn’t grow that way -- don’t eat it. For example: Fresh fruit is high in fructose (fruit sugar) but in its whole fruit state it has a lot more vitamins and minerals and takes more energy to break it down for digestion. Fruit juice on the other hand has more sugar than a soda and takes no effort to digest.

3.) Starches convert straight into sugar and then go straight to my hips. So I avoid potatoes, corn, and peas to name a few.

4.) No white bread. Bleached flour is evil. However, I’m not a fan of the whole grain breads. It all tastes like cardboard and sawdust to me -- so I don’t eat bread period. Most anything you can put in a sandwich can be wrapped in some lettuce which is better for you anyway.

5.) No bleached white processed flour pasta. Either whole wheat or there’s kinds out there made from “vegetable flour” that is much better for you. Rule of thumb for pasta: always a side dish -- never a meal.

Ouch. How it pains me to look at that list as I think longingly of my lifelong friends: desserts, potatoes, pasta, bread, candy, chips, and chocolate (which does, in fact, deserve a category all of its own). But then I consider the whole person I have to lose, and decide maybe these friends aren’t all that good for me, and perhaps I’ll like my new friends better, once I get to know them.

Mind Over Matter

Epiphany? Check.

Goals? Check.

Plan of Attack? *crickets chirp*

So, I have my awesome goals and I’ve written them in triplicate -- no really, I did -- once here and twice on paper to be strategically placed in the kitchen. One is affixed to the refrigerator by magnets and the other is taped to the snack cupboard. This way, I can’t possibly forget that I’m making a lifestyle change while under the influence of the siren’s call for junk food.

My first area of attack is portions. I’m not a dietician with formal nutritional training by any stretch of the imagination, but it seems to me if you cut what you normally eat in half, you’re bound to lose weight.

I decided to implement this idea by loading up my plate with what I would normally eat then getting a second plate to split the first in half. I immediately wrap up the second plate and put it in the fridge -- that way I can’t cheat and nibble off it.

The first time I did this, the portions looked so pathetic and sparse I just knew I was going to be hungry afterwards. I promised my protesting rumbling tummy that if it was still hungry after the smaller portion, it could have the other half portion a half an hour later -- you know, so we’re sure you’re really hungry, I cajoled. It wouldn’t listen.

The answer was so simple. If I was a cartoon character, I swear you would’ve seen the light bulb above my head. I got a smaller plate and put my meal on that -- I don’t do the dishes, obviously. Suddenly it looked like I had a lot more food. Shockingly enough, after I finished the plate, I was full.

Dieting is extremely cerebral. I know the minute I think I can’t have something I’m racing to the kitchen to gorge myself on it. So, like the losing sizes versus pounds idea tricks my brain into thinking it’s not such a massive undertaking, putting less food on a smaller plate tricks it into thinking I’m eating the same amount as I had before.