May 8, 2007

Breakfast:
One egg muffin

Morning snack:
One cheese stick
20 peanuts

Lunch:
Salad
London broil leftovers

Afternoon snack:
One cheese stick

Pre-shopping snack that was meant to be afternoon snack but I had a meeting:
A shitload of celery
Two Laughing Cow low-fat garlic cheeses (even better than cream cheese!)

Dinner:
1 1/2 pieces of balsamic chicken
A metric fuck ton of green beans

Before bed yummy:
One dark chocolate Dove promise

Ounces of water:
Over 100

Overall:
An excellent day!!

Today's thought to keep in mind:
Old Navy is getting rid of it's in-store women's plus sizes, reducing by about 50% where I buy my clothes. Must get into "normal" sizes so I can cover myself!

What's the new strategy?

Or, haven’t you already tried every damn diet out there?

Yes, yes I have.

Hello. My name is Diana, and I am fat.

In my several year journey to lose weight, I have tried many, many different ways. I’m not going into all of them now, but suffice to say that they did not work, and it’s time for something new.

One thing that I have learned in all my reading and researching how to lose weight: sugar is bad, bad, bad. So many of the traditional plans (Weight Watchers included) have you on heavily processed, sugar laden food. So, no more of that for me. I have to break the addiction to sugar (Farewell, Coke. Parting is such sweet sorrow.)

I have tried Atkins, and while it worked like a charm (the first time), it was too restrictive and didn’t include enough vegetables. I can get along without fruit just fine, but I loves me some veggies. In order to stick with a program (cause I’ll cheat like mad if I just make something up), I have decided to go with South Beach. There are tons of recipes and resources out there for this program, and that’s what I need.

So, to start, I actually sat down on Saturday and made a menu for the week, and made my grocery list off of that menu. I have never done a weekly menu before – I always was too craving driven, and wouldn’t stick to it. This time, though, we are sticking to the menu. I am not buying food just to throw it out, and this kind of planning means we always have healthy stuff in the house, and the correct ingredients to make dinner that night.

Next, I am making a commitment to stick to the menu. Today, the first day that I am eating South Beach, tested this resolve. I need an interview outfit. Jeff and I are going shopping tonight. Usually, I would just have us pick something up, or throw in a Tombstone when we get home. Not tonight – I have planned and brought an extra snack, we are going to the mall so that we can leave early enough for me to cook, and we are going to eat the delicious dinner I have marinating in the fridge.

I have tried to keep daily food journals in the past, but I hate carrying all that stuff around with me, and haven’t found a good Palm program to put on my PDA and update throughout the day (if anyone has a suggestion, I’d be happy to hear it!). Therefore, for the moment, I am going to update each day with what I ate, and how I stuck with the program. It’s out there for the world to see!

As of this morning, I weighed…(you didn’t think I was going to tell you the number, did you?)…45.5 pounds above what it will take for my sweetie to get a kilt, and (maybe) 65.5 pounds to my goal weight (depending on how I look/feel after 45.5 – although my goal weight is only one pound below THE MAX I SHOULD EVER WEIGH according to charts, I’m afraid I’m going to look like a concentration camp survivor).

I can do this.

Seriously. I'm doing it this time.

Welcome to the blog where I try to break up with my gut.

Ending any relationship is hard, but my gut and I have been through a lot together. She's with me wherever I go. A constant companion, so to speak. She was built with a combination of bad Rx drugs, steroids, and yummy, yummy food. This did not happen overnight, friends. We have been growing together since college. We took a brief break in 1999, but the ‘roids and the food caught up with me again, and I embraced her like an old friend. Through the years, we’ve put on over 70 pounds, and I’m tired of hauling her around all the time.

She’s selfish and mean. As you can see from the rest of me, she’s clearly taking up all the good food. She doesn’t like to fit into new clothes, and she’s making it harder and harder for me to get into tight places, like an airplane seat or my pants. Unlike her also-large cousins, my boobs, she doesn’t add any appeal to the rest of me.

So, gut, I’m breaking up with you. I want to start seeing other, smaller stomachs. I want to button my pants again. I am going to harass you until you go find a new home.

(Just, please, don’t find that new home on my ass.)