I am amazed at how many things I consider a victory now. Yesterday we had a birthday event at work with fruit, cheese, and brownies. I grabbed some grapes, some cheddar, and a couple of strawberries and stepped away from the sweets.

Admittedly, this week my food during the day has been a little one note. I’m doing Triscuits with peanut butter and a cup of coffee for breakfast and summer sausage, cheese, and sometimes broccoli with Ranch dressing for lunch. Dinner has been a little more exciting, but not too impressive.

Tonight I’m making pizza to celebrate our outstanding dieting efforts. I’m using a wheat crust, making a simple sauce with no sugar, and topping the whole thing with ricotta cheese, spinach, mushrooms, and lots of mozzarella. It’s going to be so good!

Having been on this diet for nearly two months has been a lot less sucky than it might have been because I’m not dieting alone. It’s made a huge difference. And it’s funny that most of the people in my work area are dieting now, too. Everyone wants to know how I’m doing and am I keeping to the diet. I have a lot of people supporting me.

Plus, let’s not forget how great Irving’s been. From my occasional panicked food texts (”everyone is eating leftover ice cream cake but me!”) to the food crazies to my insane dependence on beef jerky and summer sausage, he’s been amazingly supportive. He’s also been great about sticking to the diet himself. I’m so proud that I want to make him proud, too.

It’s almost lunch time, so I’ll be busting out the meat and cheese soon. I just wanted to take a moment to keep everyone updated on the increasingly successful progress. Hooray for weight loss!

Half a pound of ground beef and chopped onion sauteed together. Add to that one can of drained black beans, one diced jalapeno, one can of diced tomatoes, one small can of tomato sauce (no seasoning), and rinsed the tomato cans and added that water to the crock pot. Then I added some cumin, black pepper, salt, and lots of chili powder. Then garlic, paprika, red pepper, and a tablespoon or so of cocoa powder.

This all simmered on my counter for about 7 hours. It was awesome. I don’t even like chili and I had two bowls, not counting the multiple spoon dips throughout the day. So good!

And totally South Beach, by the way. Meat, tomatoes, and beans are all good to go, and there was no added sugar. Just added deliciousness.

Today I’m back at work with a bowl of chili waiting for me in the communal fridge. Not as pleasant as eating it at home, but a pretty fair arrangement.

Still, by the same token of sharing with you my victories, however small some of them may be, it’s only fair that I share my non-victories, too. After all, it’s nothing to be ashamed of. I’m only human and I’m not always going to be able to stay on this particular straight and narrow.

So here goes. Last night I had a beer. It was a light beer and low in carbs, but it was a beer. And then I had half a corn muffin. Only half and no honey or butter, but a corn muffin nonetheless.

How I wish my pitiful weakness ended there. Alas, it did not.

This morning I came to my desk to see a bag from Chick-Fil-A waiting for me. A coworker bought everyone chicken biscuits for breakfast and brought me a fruit, yogurt, granola parfait. Technically, I’m not supposed to have sweetened yogurt and most granola is more sugar than grains. Did that stop me? Did I pause? I did not. I dove in, enjoying every bite.

The smell of the chicken biscuits was still heavy in the air as I scraped the last of the yogurt from its tiny plastic container. I thanked my coworker for thinking of me, and she replied by telling me that she would have gotten me my very own chicken biscuit, but didn’t want to sabotage my efforts. As I was about to thank her for the concern, she then lifted a hidden bag of Chick-Fil-A from her desk to say that if I wanted it, there was an extra one just for me.

Don’t ask what came over me. Maybe it’s the fact that while I’ve had a couple of good days, my weight is moving with glacial slowness. I’m stressed out. I’m tired. I’m cranky. And I can’t shake the feeling that the sound of my heels on the pavement is less that of a sophisticated woman but that of a two-legged Clydesdale horse, trotting unevenly. Suddenly I was seized with a “what the hell?” attitude and gratefully took the bag from her.

It sat on my desk for three hours, the smell of the chicken wafting up towards me, making my mouth water as I poured over files and cross  checked information.

Before I knew what was happening, I’d taken it from the bag, unwrapped it, and taken a small bite. Sheer heaven for one who has not touched fast food or anything breaded or deep fried in nearly a month. I wrapped it back up and put it back in the bag.

An hour later, two more bites were gone and I’d re-wrapped the sandwich, put it in the bag, and thrown it away. I’m now eating my tuna salad with broccoli and cauliflower and a tall glass of water.

I’m hoping to get back on track now, but I felt I needed to come clean about the chicken. And the beer. And the corn bread.

Man does not live by protein alone!

I’m not exactly living on hot wings, but I have to confess that I have an awful lot of them lately. They’re just so delicious! In the past weekend I’ve had some from Buffalo Wild Wings (can I get an amen to the Asian Zing?!) some from a local wing place called Pudge Brothers, and then more from Pudge Brothers as the initial order was fairly substantial. So yeah, that’s three meals made of wings in as many days.

But you want to know the best part? Thus far on my sugar-free, carb-free diet, I’ve allowed myself one piece of fruit in the last 21 days, I’ve had no beer, no potatoes, no pasta. This Friday night, however, I got a little crazy. I dove into the Asian Zing wings for the first time since October. I had a substantial amount of red wine (I was home and not driving so stop with the judging). I made it a wing and wine party.

The next morning I had dropped nearly two pounds, which is the single biggest one-day weight loss of the entire month. So how about that?

I fully intend to coast further on my diet on the wings of the hot wings. Yum!

This lunch was set for a local Greek restaurant. Here’s the thing about Greek food, most of it is really healthy, but it’s not generally low carb. It’s almost always served with bread or potatoes or both or it’s been deep fried. I was nervous, but convinced I’d be able to figure something out.

I got there and ordered my water with lemon and listened to those around me ordering gyros (delicious, but served on a pita) and french fries (obviously a no go for me right now) and lemon chicken soup with orzo pasta (more like norzo pasta for me). I got a plate of Greek meatballs from the appetizer menu and contented myself with eating the lettuce garnish that the deep fried calamari was served on. No really. I ate the lettuce garnish.

My meatballs were good and I was even able to snag a few bites of pork and gyro meat from the friendly faces around the table. Then came dessert. Two of my coworkers decided to order baklava. Baklava, people! One of my all time favorite, sweet, sticky, gooey, rich, decadent desserts, that I can sometimes convince myself isn’t too bad for me because nuts and honey are both healthy.

So then I was faced with not one, but two monstrous sized portions of this delicacy, one on either side of me so there was no where to look but up. Our waitress came over at this point bearing additional forks, so that everyone could partake. Well, almost everyone.

The plates were passed around the table. I touched both plates as I passed them back and forth. I gave up my fork. I looked at the wooden table directly in front of me. I tried not to breathe through my nose.

Somehow, amazingly, I made it out of there in one piece. No baklava touched my lips, no garlic mashed potatoes or french fries invaded my plate, and I didn’t so much as sip the broth of the pasta-filled soup.

While this diet has been challenging, I think today marks my biggest victory to date. I am rewarding myself with a single piece of South Beach-approved dark chocolate, which I intend to make last for the next 45 minutes. Thank you.

Don’t go all judgmental on me. First of all, it’s cheaper than therapy. Secondly, it’s not as though I have a straw in the bottle at my hip. I have a glass of red wine (which is totally allowed in Phase 2, by the way) after finishing one my very low carb, high protein meals.

I’m still feasting on broccoli and cauliflower and I’ve discovered a slew of new ways to stuff button mushrooms. I’ve had more eggs in the last two and a half weeks than I have in the two months prior. I’m doing alright, all things considered.

I’m hovering right now in the 4.5 to 5lbs range total, which isn’t much but is still better than where I was on January 3. I’m staying optimistic and keeping to my path. Irving has really taken to the plan and is doing a great job at keeping us motivated. The sugar-free peanut butter cookies may have something to do with our success, as they manage to ease the pain a donut or bagel can cause.

Oh, did I mention that last week I actually had to turn down triple chocolate birthday cake? Twice? On the same day?! But I am strong and I powered forward. I went to a party and brought veggies and broccoli. I indulged in artichoke dip with cauliflower while those around me snacked on pretzel thins.

The next night I withstood familial pressure to let go for the night and just have some of those cheesy, bacony potato skins. I did not cave to the spinach dip with tortilla chips and I enjoyed double broccoli with my steak and ribs rather than jumping to the baked potato.

After all that, I figure a glass of wine now and then is really just a pat on the back, don’t you? I’ll keep on keeping on and keeping you posted on the fun facts.

Have you ever looked at a piece of naked pizza crust with the toppings scraped off? It always seems sort of sad to me. I know that conventional wisdom says that the crust is just a vessel for the toppings anyway, but I’ve always been sort of purist. I go for plain cheese pizza most of the time, and when I do get fancy it’s usually to add more cheeses. (Ever had ricotta on your pizza? Add a little fresh basil as well and it’s like a mini lasagna heaven.)

That basically means that for me, the crust is an essential part of the pizza. I personally like my crust super thin and foldable. Don’t get me wrong. The deep dish I had in Chicago was amazing, but it struck me as more of a casserole than a pizza. To me, pizza needs to be thin, judiciously topped, and eaten while either scalding hot or frigid cold the next day. Nothing at room temperature. That’s just unappealing.

The reason behind me telling you all of this is that I’m really proud of myself for not diving into the thin crusted ham and pineapple pizza (one of my favorites but pineapple is off limits). Instead, I stuck with my meaty options and thew away the limp, sad remains.

Oh, and you know how I’m easily manipulated by guilt and shame and I am using these character traits to my advantage on this diet? Well, I had a perfect moment of that this afternoon as I meandered into the break room for slice number 2.

One of the most slender, though I grudgingly admit pleasant, people I work with knows of my dieting efforts and has been very supportive. She saw me lift the box lid and immediately let out with a decisive, “Kari, what are you doing?!” I dropped the lid like a naughty child and quickly explained my toppings-only arrangement. She seemed appeased by my explanation and I took my pepperoni slice, sprinkled it with Parmesan cheese and a little judgment, and returned to my desk.

For dessert? A spoonful of reduced-sugar peanut butter. I’m a diet rock star right now.

Give me a break already! Please? I’m doing everything I’m supposed to on this damn diet. I’m eating three healthy, low-carb and high protein meals a day. I’m snacking on diet-approved items between meals, per the diet book.

Ok, so maybe I have a little more peanut butter than you’d like. Maybe I even have the occasional heaping bowl of sugar-free ice cream. Still, it’s sugar free! It’s not like I’m binging on Whoppers and Dilly Bars.

Give a girl a hand. I’m stressed at work, I’m off sugar, I’m not drinking, and I’m having a bad weight day in which I have actually gone up more than a pound since yesterday. Yesterday, for Pete’s sake!

I’ve cleaned out my desk of all mini chocolates. I have the receptionist watching my moves around the candy bowl up front with strict instructions to hurl a stapler at my head should I a) take a piece that is not dark chocolate or b) take more than one piece of dark chocolate a day. I’m eating scrambled, steamed, and baked eggs. I’ve had at least ten salads in the last nine days.

I know that body weight fluctuates. I know that I’m doing well and losing weight at a steady pace (except for today’s slap in the face) and that I should be proud of my will power. I know these things, but still, Diet Gods, I ask for help and a sign.

Prove to me, oh Dieting Deities, that I shouldn’t soothe my pain with a large bowl of pasta or a steaming plate of cheese fries. Show me that I have not gone astray. Help me on this quest to find my waist again!

Hallelujah and amen.

He is adapting beautifully, by the way. Yesterday when his office ordered Chipotle, he got a burrito bowl with no rice. Today when someone brought donuts, he stayed in the far room and pretended it wasn’t there. When I’m craving a glass of wine, he pours another Pepsi Max and turns on the football game.

I am torn between admiration for his dedication and his determination and just being really irritated that while I’m having withdrawal and the occasional food headache, he seems fine.

I know I’m being irrational and silly. Still, I haven’t had anything naturally sweetened in nine days. Can you blame me for being a little off kilter?

Speaking of sweetened, I think I may be too sweet for my own dieting good. We have a birthday at work tomorrow. Typically someone chosen at the last birthday makes a treat for the next birthday. This time around, however, no one knew there was a birthday until a few hours ago. Being the helpful honey bee I am, I naturally volunteered.

That’s right, people. Without thinking I volunteered to bake a delicious dessert tonight for the non-sugar deprived folks I work with. I’m choosing to go with the simplest peanut butter cookie recipe in the world because it’s quick and I’m less likely to have a nervous breakdown while they’re baking. Also because I can make a sugar-free version tomorrow and feel slightly less like a big, dieting outsider.

Must gather my strength now. I have to go home, make a delicious carb-free dinner, and watch my boyfriend effortlessly glide past the tortuous peanut butter cookies as I slave away over someone else’s dessert. 

Not that I’m bitter.

I made some roasted tomato soup with cream and homemade chicken stock, but was there a grilled cheese sandwich to dunk? No. There was boneless, skinless chicken breast. Did I have a glass of wine in front of the fireplace with my darling boyfriend? No. We had sugar free ice cream, thus negating the fire.

Don’t get me wrong. While this morning’s weight wasn’t what I had hoped, I am still optimistic. I’m down from where I started and I am working to continue moving forward. Still, a cold gray day is a little bit grayer when you’re dieting.

Tonight will be chicken with mushrooms in cream sauce and a side of green beans and some salad. Not bad. Not garlic mashed potatoes with loads of gravy and fried chicken, but not bad.