Diets are a cruel, cruel thing. I had a different post planned for today but the thing is, I can't seem to think about anything else beside chocolate. Or cakes. Or chocolate cakes. I can see them in front of my eyes, like Frodo on the last leg of his quest, I can see nothing but the cake. I sit here typing this and all I can see instead of letters on my keyboard are tiny pieces of chocolate. My computer screen is a sea of vanilla and chocolate flakes, and the iPhone next to it is in fact a giant cookie. I am loosing my mind, and there is nothing I can do about it because, like I tell Ron - you did the crime, you do the time. And boy did I do the crime...
7 days ago I have reached the point of no return. I finished Christmas and stepped on the scales, to discover what I already knew from looking in the mirror (and trying to put my trousers on) - there is nowhere to run (except on the treadmill), I can't close my eyes and pretend the mirror is fattening, and no matter how many times I step on and off the scales it will still be there - my shame.
Yes, it's my shame. Because this is what I swore will not happen to me - I will not be one of those people who lost a lot of weight and looked great and then gained it all back plus some. And here I am well on my way to be the biggest cliche in town.
And so, though I told Hidai I refuse to call it a new year resolution, I emptied the fridge and all the cupboards of anything that falls under the category of "tasty" and filled it instead with enough fruits, vegetables and Weight Watchers products to open a tiny pick-your-own farm. I have chosen to go down the safe route of Weight Watchers again, because I know it works and because I already have the app (ok. More because I already have the app). Being an antisocial prima donna that never does anything the way it should be done, I of course don't do the whole meetings thing, I don't belong to any local or online group. It's just me and the app, and occasionally when I feel extremely miserable (about once every couple of hours) - Hidai, who has to suffer also, because why should I be the only one? and can eat no chocolate or sweets or Muller corners.
The thing is, Weight Watchers is all about the salad. At the end of the day it's not a bad system, it's just that it has one BIG problem - portion size. You know how when you have a baby and you start weaning it, they tell you that you should take an ice-cube tray and fill it with baby food and each cube is a portion? Weight Watchers portions are exactly the same size. I mean what sane person can feel satisfied after eating 100 grams of pasta for lunch? It doesn't matter if you are hungry or not. It's that if you are sitting to eat with other people, by the time everyone else finished piling their plates you're already clearing yours off the table. It's unsatisfying. That is why they have vegetables - because you can eat as many of those as you like (well not including potatoes and chocolate of course. But a big yes for cucumbers and lettuce), and here is where that salad comes in. It takes a long time to eat a gigantic bowl of salad (no dressing. No olive oil. No croutons.) and you get to feel like you ate a real meal and you are actually a grown person. After all, in order to make 100 grams of pasta look presentable you have to put it in the kids plates.
And even that is not the worst part. Oh no, the worst part starts today, because today I start the exercise part of it all. Now I know what you are going to say, everyone loves exercise, it releases endorphins, and once you get into it you get addicted to it. I know, I heard all these lies people who work at the gym say too. The truth is you get addicted to things that are enjoyable, like booze or chocolate or white sugar. Or trashy TV. But how in the name of.... How can you get addicted to wearing those uncomfortable clothes that emphasise every little thing you hate about your body, sweating like a pig no matter how low the thermostat is set, and looking like a complete and utter idiot while you are doing something so wrong it should be illegal? Yes, yes, you don't have to tell me, I know it's the results. You get addicted to the results, and to not having back pain and to not grunting every time you sit down. The thing is, you don't really. I mean I like the results, who doesn't? But is it really worth me having to suffer through the whole 4 times a week of running and Pilates to get them while I continuously scream profanities and death threats at the TV (I am not crazy enough to actually let other people see me exercise)? I have been doing Pilates for 11 years now, and walking or running for 8. I can honestly say without a moment hesitation - I still hate it with the same passion. And I keep the hate alive, because that hatred is the only thing getting me through it. I really can't understand people whose panting while they run isn't "I hate you, you f*&^ng treadmill. I wish you would break down right here and right now you son of a...." you get my point I'm sure.
And yet, here I am, on my way to go and start this torture again. Because deep down I know the truth - Those who bitch while on the torture device also known as treadmill are better off than those who bitch while standing on the sideline, after all they are closer to reaching their ultimate goal.
Being able to eat cake again.