South Beach Deja Vu
Believe it or not, due to explanations that defy all logic or personal history, I’m back on the South Beach Diet. But here’s the thing: I think this could be reminiscent of that first go round. Remember? No, of course you don’t. I didn’t have a blog then.
If I did, you would have been subject to much whimpering, some boasting, and a bit of weeping. As I’m back on South Beach, and now have said blog, brace yourselves.
For those who aren’t familiar with it, let me give you the super-short version. For two weeks, you live in sheer carb-less misery. No fruit, no grains, no alcohol, no fun of any kind. Just meat, cheese, green vegetables, and more meat. Also nuts. Yeah. That’s it. After two weeks, you start to slowly integrate healthy options back into your stomach. Things like berries and whole grains and apples can finally show up on your counters again. After you do that forever and you’re finally at a weight that works for you, you just take it easy and try not to get too carried away again.
I did this once before. Over the course of a summer I lost 30 pounds and kept it off for more than a year. Pretty friggin’ impressive, I think. Then, I got mixed up with the wrong crowd. Potato pushers. Danish dealers. Carb carriers. I was just a young, mixed up kid. I can’t be held too accountable for my missteps. Right?
So now I’m back to the starting point. This first week of carb-free living is no picnic. Not only are you irritable because you’re dieting, which is an admission that you need to be on a diet, but you’re going through a bit of withdrawal. No sugar? No bread? No pasta? No beer? Gadzooks! No wonder I have a headache and growling in my belly.
Don’t misunderstand me. I’m not hungry. What I love about the South Beach diet is that you can eat until you’re full. You just have to be careful about what you’re eating. It’s partially the psychological stuff, and partially the physical reaction of giving something you’ve gotten used to. It’s no fun.
But it’s effective. I’ve been on this diet for 2 1/2 days and I’m 2 1/2 pounds lighter than when I started. I’m not looking for miracles, I’m really not, but I want to take more control of my body.
The reason my first attempt was so successful (and every other attempt has been so disastrous), is that the first try was the only one where I had a support system. Johanna and I dieted together. We didn’t want to be the first to cave and let down the other one. We called each other for moral support mid-day. When I nearly ripped the head of a friend for eating a chocolate-covered donut in my presence, Johanna pulled me away to save that friendship and that woman’s life. When Johanna didn’t think she could stand one more salad, we went to Whole Foods for a fabulous antipasta platter instead. It was an essential part of the diet plan that they conveniently left out of the book.
I’ve never had that since we both dropped this diet years ago. Now, I think, I have it again. Irving, dear Irving, is dieting with me. No, he doesn’t think I’m fat. No, I don’t think he’s fat. Still, the unescapable truth is that we have put on weight. It’s not horrific, but it ain’t great.
When we were considering what our options were, I heard the dulcet tones of my sister playing in my ear. When I was in Tennessee for a certain wedding, I mentioned that I looked heavy in the mirror (obviously, hoping for a quick, “That’s nonsense! You look great” the day before putting on a bridesmaid’s dress and walking down an aisle). Her response? “Well, you do eat a lot of bacon.”
Yep.
But then I got to thinking. Was there a way to cling to my bacony preferences and still shed pounds? I thought back to the days of smaller pant sizes and flippy skirts and remembered that there had been bacon. I could have my bacon and eat it too! (It was this or invest in bacon candles and I thought that might adversly affect my furniture.)
So here we are, three days in. Bacon, several salads, and tons of cheese already and the pounds are starting to think about going elsewhere. It’s not going to be easy. I’d mug an old lady for a toasted bagel or some mac and cheese. Still, I think that having the support of Irving, the taste of bacon, and the too-small clothes hanging in the closet will help keep me motivated.
Updates to follow.
You are so delightful to read on a page! And I thought hearing you in person was good. Now that I think back, I’m really glad I rescued that Lemon cake from you at the Olive Tree.
July 6th, 2010 at 5:23 pm