It has been a month now since I turned my back on carbs and renounced bread, pasta, sugar, potatoes, pulses and, all the fun things in life. For the last four weeks, I have stoically turned my back on just about everything I have been used to eating except eggs, cheese and vegetables that grow above the ground.
I have not weighed myself for very good reason. When it comes to weight loss, I have found my body is like an aircraft carrier, or large cruise ship steaming at full speed on the open ocean. When food is plentiful and biscuits are to hand; when the wine flows like conversaton between friends, it will happily power forward in weight gain mode, picking up kilos as a matter of course.
When you stop the eating, it takes a while for the ship to realise. You can not turn a ship on a dime and anyway this ship is quite happy steaming on in the general direction of weight. It will take a while to register, not that things have just slowed down, but the engine has been cut and a new course has been set. It will try chugging on in the same direction for a while becuse turning a ship of that size around takes a bit of time, but eventually it will reset its course and begin to describe the large arc that will point it in the opposite direction.
It is during this slowing and turning that I generally lose patience and decide that because two weeks of self-control have not rid my body of the result of months and years of fat collection, it is ‘not working’. I give up and the ship pretty much picks up and carries on.
Last week, though, I noticed that while the waistband of my work trousers did not feel noticeably different, the pockets of my trousers were bigger. It is, of course sod’s law that the area that your body carries the most weight is the last area to lose it, so my stomach is hanging on to its fat deposits with grim determination. My legs, however have apparently decided that they can do without a bit and have given up their stores. As my thighs have receded slightly, the pressure they exert upon my pocket space has lessened and I can now get my entire phone into one, rather than having it dangling out at a jaunty angle.
It is at this point that I would normally dig out my gym clothes and try to help my body eat itself alive by hurling myself into exercise. I like to exercise, but I can not do it at the moment because my knee is still hurting. I won’t complain though, because most of the determination that has kept me going recently, has been down to an idea that the only thing I can control with my knee pain is the weight that I expect it to bear and it is providing me with the motivation I am using to keep going.
There is never a good time to try and lose weight. It is always someone’s birthday and an office is a series of morning teas waiting to happen. At the moment the office is fundraising for their Xmas party by holding weekly morning teas and I have had to spurn carrot cake, chocolate brownies and what was described as ‘the best cheesecake ever made’ (apparently in a pressure cooker – who knew??) in my efforts. To make matters worse, the cakes are laid out on a table not five feet away from my desk. I can practically smell the sugar from where I sit. I still have two small, dark chocolate kitkats in my drawer from a month ago when they were a daily treat for a while. They will wait for me, I know.
Now that the ship has apparently turned, gotta try and keep on sailing in the right direction…