I love food. Most fat people do....and yet, I hate the fact that my body loves it so much that it refuses to let me burn up the calories. When I'm following my low-carb diet, I praise myself. I'm "good" when I follow it AND I'm losing weight. Conversely, I'm "bad" when I don't follow it and regain all of the weight I've lost.
This week, I was bad.
The hardest part of dieting is understanding that for me, it's not a straight formula for weight loss. If it was, I'd have this damned thing licked. No, it's a carbohydrates issue...and I proved it to myself once and for all this week.
On Monday, I stepped on the scale. I'd lost 4 pounds. Go, me! And I drank all weekend. Not excessively, mind you. A couple of drinks on Friday....a couple on Saturday. I saved my carbs both days, in fact, to allow me to have them without guilt.
I ran in the morning, walked in the evening, drank two light beers to wash down my bunless burger and salad. Daytime cheat included a giant frozen mochaccino from Einstein's that was the equivalent to a full-course meal, I'm sure.
Tuesday, I walked. I didn't drink anything stronger than iced tea to wash down my burger wrap.
Wednesday, I ran in the morning, walked in the evening, had one light beer to wash down the THREE PIECES OF PIZZA I had for supper.
Thursday, I had two drinks. Ate four chicken wings, half a chicken quesadilla, one chicken popper and three cheese sticks. Did not exercise.
Today: I ran. I weighed myself. Packed those 4 pounds back on. I feel as if I failed utterly and completely. Really? 4 pounds can do that?
It triggered a tumble of blame games. Why did I let the girl at Einstein's talk me into a large frozen mochaccino? Oh, right. They don't use simple syrup and I hate the puddle of sugar at the bottom of their iced coffees. I just wanted it a little sweet. Instead, I had liquid chocolate pie complete with whipped cream.
4 pounds.
Why didn't I eat salads all week? Oh, right. Because salads cost more and they're like Chinese food: I'm hungry again two hours later. Much better to order meat with veggies. Which I did.
Why did I drink anything with alcohol in it? Oh, right. Because it's hot out and I'd rather drink a beer than have too much sugar or caffeine at night. 8 carbs, 90 calories...better choice than Coke, iced tea or lemonade.
Three pieces of pizza. About 800 calories. 800 calories worth of pizza made me gain 4 pounds?
I burned about 1500 calories by running and walking. Every pound is approximately 3500 calories. That's 14,000 calories.
Clearly, I didn't exceed anything by 14,000 calories. It's carbohydrates. I exceeded my carb allotment.
How long will it take me to lose these 4 pounds again? I don't know. I might lose and regain these same 4 pounds over and over again before they finally leave for good. Pounds for me are like cockroaches...and I need a better exterminator.
I hate this.
2 comments:
The line about drinking liquid chocolate pie cracked me up. The battle with carbs does not crack me up. It's brutal.
Carbs are like mommy.
Too Freudian?
Carbs are comfort, and my body craves them like a woobie.
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