The Carb, It Shall Be Cut.
February 11th, 2008 by trancejen
Warning, boring food stuff ahead.
Since my history of crash dieting is long and insane and since my own brain tells me to do things like eat nothing but Cheerios sans milk for months on end, I have decided to go the route of a friend and cut carbs in the hopes that we can do this carb-cutting thing together and compare notes and talk about it and all of that happy crappy.
I have a pleasant history with carb-cutting, actually. I “did Atkins” after I had the J-Man and lost a very substantial amount of weight (only, I’m afraid, to start eating sugar like a freak and put a good deal of it directly back on). I think I’m ready to make the change in lifestyle that is required of a good Atkins dieter, that is to say that I am ready to stop eating breads and floury foods and sugars and trade it all in for meats and eggs and such for the long haul.
Plainly put, I am really tired of being fat - more tired of being fat than I am bored enough to eat everything in the house that isn’t nailed to a plate. I am so very tired of carrying this dead, sloshy weight around. It is, after all, not me. It cannot possibly be me.
Plus, I think now that I’m working (working!!) I will be less likely to succumb to boredom eating, which has been a huge issue for me during the past several years.
It sounds so incredibly lame and hausfrauish - sitting on the sofa and eating bonbons - but really, it’s very easy to eat when one is bored out of one’s mind, especially when one is often couch-bound and watching bad TV. Why not have a few chips, or a sandwich, or some guacamole, or half a pizza?? Add to this the slow metabolism of a non-exerciser, and you have one grossly enlarged ass.
My ass deserves its own flag. Seriously, my belts come with their own border patrol.
I joke, but it is painful. Nobody wants to watch their ass enlarge by the week. And it probably wouldn’t be so painful if it wasn’t my own damned fucking fault. I can sit here and blame it on my medication and illness and whateverdly-doodly-doo, but the fact is that I have eaten myself into near-obesity.
It’s time for a serious change if I do not want to be this person. It’s also time for me to exercise, as much as I loathe the very word.
I’m going to start using the treadmill at night, before I’ve eaten dinner, when I tend to feel strongest, when my mom is home from work and can make sure I’m not passing out on the damned thing (or, if I do pass out on the damned thing, can call the appropriate people). Generally when my heart rate is up I am less likely to pass out so I don’t foresee any problems, so that’s a good thing. I used to be able to get up to 55 minutes on the machine, but I’m going to start out with 20 minutes and go from there.
This Sunday as I was getting ready for my sister’s birthday dinner and was pulling on a new pair of jeans in a larger size that I will not mention - but let it be said that it is a Big Girl Size - I asked myself, when is it going to fucking stop? Am I just going to keep buying new clothes?
Ridiculous. I have hatred for these clothes, these big, unwieldy clothes. They look as though they cannot possibly belong to me, but I put them on and zip! they fit. This is dark magic of some sinister kind. Surely my old clothes, my real clothes will fit me, but no, they do not even travel up above mid-thigh. I bleat in despair.
While I will more than likely never see a size four again, there is no reason that I can’t see a size nine or something like that. I have nines. I have fours, fives, sixes, sevens, eights, nines, tens and on ups. I have enough clothes to outfit you and me and all our skinny friends.
I can’t just sit here on my ass eating the way I have been, occasionally binging and purging the way I have been, going into suicidal fucking depressions about my body the way I have been, and simply wishing that it would end. This is a physical problem with a physical solution, and it needs to be solved by me.
So that’s the skinny, if you’ll pardon the expression. Cutting carbs, working out, maybe doing a little yoga on the side, trying to keep my calories up and not get too extreme, and attempting to keep a level head about all of this.
Above all, I need to keep a level head. It’s difficult for me, not seeing a ten-pound-per-week weight loss, to get discouraged; because I forget that this is not 1989 and I am not on the coke-’n'-vodka-’n'-no-food diet. (Note: I am not recommending that particular diet. At all.) I need to keep realistic expectations in mind.
Here’s to realistic expectations and a new and improved body.
Allyson wrote on 02/11/08 at 3:15 pm :
Almased.com It is a protien type shake that helps reset your matabolosm. I use it for a two week fast (in which you can lose 12-18 pounds), but it can also be used as a single meal replacement suppliment. It really works, and I highly reccommend it to everyone I know.
Deirdre_70 wrote on 02/11/08 at 6:06 pm :
Watch out! This otherwise mute onlooker has suddenly decided to comment not once, but twice this week.
I, too, am a slave to the carbohydrate. I found myself weighing 231, feeling tired and slobbish, and looking like 10 pounds of shit in a 5 pound bag. I had what appeared to be hail damage on my ass. It wasn’t pretty at all.
So I cut the simple sugars, waved goodbye to lucky charms and pasta……and dropped 65 pounds in about 5 months. Life was good….even without the lucky charms. Then Thanksgiving came and with it a stuffed bird and mashed potatoes and all sorts of things that I was not to eat. I ate anyway. I ate on through “the holidays.” I am still eating (Hey, Valentines day is a “holiday” too!) But I have put back 15 pounds, and I hadn’t even reached my goal weight when I stumbled….um…okay, swan-dived off the wagon back in November. I gave away all my “fat clothes” as I lost weight, so now I am stuffed like a sausage into pants that no longer fit. Perhaps it is time that I turn my back on the simple carbohydrate and crawl back on the wagon. I have some kick-ass recipes if you are interested. And not a one of them contain tofu, treebark or owl shit.
Deirdre
Trance wrote on 02/11/08 at 6:27 pm :
No owl shit? But what is a diet recipe without owl shit??
I am interested in recipes, always. Shoot them over to trancejen@gmail.com.
Matt wrote on 02/12/08 at 11:39 am :
Oh the Atkins, prehaps the perfect diet if not for its one singular fatal flaw. A flaw so great I have never been able to overcome said flaw. It seems that Beer has carbs and is not Atkins friendly. No amount of bacon can quelch my desire for that golden necter of the Gods.
for-tart wrote on 02/12/08 at 2:22 pm :
After no exercise since before the holidays (I see a trend here) I did 20 sit-ups this morning. The first step in getting back to the jeans I love.
Jeff wrote on 02/19/08 at 5:13 pm :
I am a vegetarian, on atkins, I hate life.
Moms fucking blackzilla. wrote on 08/5/08 at 4:27 pm :
Moms and sons fucking in bed….
Moms fucking sons. Moms fucking blackzilla. Moms fucking. Fucking hot moms….