The D-Word and Other Profanity

Is it just me or am I hearing a glut of four-letter words lately? I have to cover my ears from this assault of profane language. The worst is the “D” word. You know the one. I can’t say it in a family newspaper, but it rhymes with riot.

D@%*.

Ugh. I despise that word. If life were fair, it would be the word that does not speak its name. Unfortunately, life is not fair. The D-word and I are on very intimate terms.

Today is Day 25 of my d@%* and the honeymoon is definitely over. I have lost 10 pounds and all my friends who actually eat. My family will probably be gone with the next ten. It will be just me and my protein bars.

I had a choice between low-cal, low-fat, and low-carb. I guess I could have considered lipo, but I have a fear of the fat coming back in unusual places, foreign places, places harder to hide with a sarong.

Low-cal is what I have always done in the past. It’s simple. Count the calories going in, subtract the exercise and arrive at a number that makes you feel hungry and irritable.

There are variations. Some programs convert calories to points. That way you need to pay weekly to help you un-convert them back to weight loss. Plus you get to hang out with people who talk endlessly about the stress of counting points.

Low-fat was in favor for a while. Fat has more than double the calories of carbs and protein, so it’s a good place to cut. The theory makes sense. After all how hard can it be to turn fat to fat? There’s no middle man. It’s straight from the ice cream carton to your butt.

Low-carb is popular too. The science behind this d#^% is that carbs are too easily converted to sugar. Your cells suck it up like a cherry Icee at 7-11. Carbs invite a sweet little rush followed by a sour little crash, then topped with a monster craving for more. That’s why you ate the whole bag.
I decided to try low-carb. I realize now that I’m the kind of girl who never met a loaf of French bread she didn’t like. But I could sacrifice for summer clothes.

Then I found out my thyroid was low. I was so excited. I could take a little pill every day and it would speed up my metabolism, give me energy, and make it easier to lose weight. And it was legal!

I considered blowing off d@%*ing all together. No, I would commit to low-carb. The pill would be the icing.

I was off to a fabulous start until I got out of bed the first morning and realized my normal breakfast used up my entire carb allotment for the day. Ugh.

I’ve missed the entire girl scout cookie season. I will miss fresh corn season too. But bathing suit season? Who knows? I may not miss that at all.