I start a new diet every Monday – sometimes Wednesdays to shake things up. I’ve done the shakes, the starving, the diet pills and diet tea. Once, I was an 800 number away from ordering a set of the updated “Buns, Thighs and Abs of Steel” exercise videos. Thankfully, my youngest finished nursing, and we both fell asleep before I could dial. I’ve read the books and blogs. I’ve watched infomercials and documentaries. I’ve done it all, except for the new “Steel” videos.
I had a college roommate who tried hypnosis. Instead of losing her appetite, she was constipated for more than two months. We weren’t sure what one had to do with the other, but since she didn’t lose weight, constipation is the only side effect that was noticeable.
No matter what I’ve tried as far as diet goes, nothing sticks. Nothing except the residuals from the Chips Ahoy and pizza I crash into after following a juice fast all day. You get the point. I suck at following a strict diet.
Something I’ve always been consistent with is working out. Time to cue all the annoying little phrases trainers, health care experts or AdvoCare reps repeat,
“You can’t outrun a bad diet.”
“It’s 20 percent exercise, 80 percent diet.”
“You need this carb blocker thing if you’re going to eat pizza.”
Yada, yada, yada.
A friend once told me that to lose weight, all one needs to do is use simple math. “Calories in, calories out.” I didn’t even go into all the issues I have with math.
So, what’s a girl in her mid-40s with a sweet tooth and zero willpower to do? Because I must do something soon. Gravity is not my friend lately. Working out isn’t doing what it used to do. Friends and family told me it would happen. I didn’t listen. I thought it might skip a generation. I thought genetics would be kinder to me. I mean, the cowlicks, the big teeth, enormous butt, the ugly feet…haven’t I suffered enough? I thought the whole Jehovah’s Witness thing would at the least give me a pass on something, anything. Come on. But no, no and no.
Summer is coming, and there’s nothing left to do but stick to a plan to lose the 15 pounds that’s been following me for 10 years. Only now five more of their little spawn have tagged along.
Summer is right around the corner. I wish for so many things when this time of year rolls around. Mostly though, I wish a diet were as easy as you think it’s going to be right after inhaling a bowl of buttered popcorn and pint of Chunky Monkey.
Monday is going to be the day. No more dilly-dallying. Monday the new diet starts. If not Monday, then Wednesday.
Comments? You can email Becky Andrews at firstname.lastname@example.org. Andrews and Angel Kane are the brains behind Telling Tales, a weekly column in The Democrat.