Oh, I know it's all part of my recalibration, the worthy means by which I'm going to be attractively wearing the smaller sized clothing in my closet once again in the future. But honestly (as I said to materfamilias lately): If booze makes you fat, then we've got a problem. Cuz I do not intend to live without it for any extended period.
Think what you will, at this point. If you're new to this blog, you may wonder if I have a problem. If you've known me for a long time, you may be amazed that I'm denying myself anything, for any reason.
Here's where I'm at, after week 1 of my return to moderateness, after a few months of living large. (Note: Apologies to those who find people writing about their eating habits to be way past boring. I agree, it's a special kind of narcissism, but y'all showed some interest in the plan, so I thought I'd tell you how it's going...):
Well, it's going. I'm doing all the things I said I would:
- No alcohol of any kind
- No refined sugar (save a small amount of chocolate in the evenings)
- More with the healthy fat and protein. Less with the carbs (I stay under 100 grams per day, which is in no way "low carb", according to those who practice that lifestyle, but is much less carby than what you find in your average first world diet. Once you kill baked goods, it's hard to get to 100 grams of carbs a day.)
- No junk food
Seriously, though, I'm not physically craving anything. I'm not hungry. I did have a day last week when I thought I was coming down with something. Looking back, I wonder if my body was a bit shocked by my abrupt resumption of the kind of moderate living that - I presume - helped me to go from being fatter than I wanted to be (years after having a kid), to the size and shape I would like to be - and which I have recently mildly deviated from in the name of happy extravagance.
The truth is you can become habituated to any kind of lifestyle and, at some point, you probably will. It's a precious few who go into middle age, with its attendant hormonal shifts and sedentary responsibilities, without losing the shapes taken for granted in youth, at least initially. The longer the life, the more opportunity one has to become attracted to bacchanalian, gustatory delights - and to satisfy that attraction. Sometimes you're going to go for the taste / get lazy / decide to eat gleefully despite the potential outcome (you choose the terminology).
Those stereotypical 1950s ladies never upsized their clothes, from youth to old age, because they were fucking careful. One might even say restrictive - though I prefer to say moderate. And yet, they managed to drink the booze. Hmmm.
You know how single-minded I am. Now that I've decided not to drink for 2 weeks, even though I'm really questioning the merit of that element of the recalibration, I'm all "I said I was going to do this, and now I'm going to do it dammit."
Never mind that it's wan and, frankly, immoderate.