My previous diet-and-exercise regimen, which ran for three weeks this January, was successful from one standpoint: I demonstrated to myself how effectively I can diet-and-exercise, provided I stay healthy. The low-carb regimen works well for me, and helps me select healthy foods (homemade, with lots of vegetables) rather than fabber-crap from the Post Industrial Land of Empty Sugars. I have to be exercising, too, but there’s nothing wrong with doing both diet AND exercise. Duh.
My weight, which had peaked at 187 (as measured immediately after waking up in the morning, before eating anything) had dropped to 180, and I felt great. Then I got sick for three weeks (rhinovirusocerous), and got out of the habit of healthy living. I haven’t been to the gym since mid-February. The only exercise I’ve gotten in 5 weeks, and I’m not making this up: three rounds of Disc Golf, some walking around at BrainShare (walking between “place to sit” and “place to eat”; I’m not sure that counts) and exactly 20 push-ups.
This morning my weight hit 187.5. A new high! I feel like the 1997 DOW Industrials!
(Bloated… artificially larger than I should be… doomed to catastrophic collapse… pick one)
So, I need to get back to the gym, and back on the low-carb wagon. I’ve got decent self-discipline these days — in past year’s diets I haven’t just fallen off the wagon, I’ve leapt from the wagon into the ditch, and then fled naked into the woods to dance with the elves… the KEEBLER elves, and their pet Nesquik Bunny. I’ve broken my Nesquik addiction, though, and my carbohydrate cravings can now be satiated with a really robust salad, some wild rice, and a diet soda.
Which brings me to breakfast this morning… I enjoyed a “last meal” of fried eggs, toast-under-sausage-gravy, grits, and a (admittedly token) diet drink.
The drink: It’s this stuff called “Slim Lite” that they sell at Sam’s Club. It’s a little more expensive than the Diet Vanilla Pepsi I typically resort to, but it has some natural fat-burning stuff in it, including Chromium, and some patented blend of don’t-ask-me-what called “Citrimax.” And it’s a product of a company which uses the word “nutraceuticals” in their company name without batting an eyelash. It’s GOTTA be good for me, right?
Right. Bah. It’s got acesulfame potassium in it, a chemical whose aftertaste has led me to refer to it lovingly as “that ‘mouth-access-denied’ crap.” It’s also got Splenda in it, which is the reason I picked up in the first place. I thought maybe the de-carbed sugar molecules they’re calling “sucralose” would mask the pump-fake-the-taste-buds action of the acesulfame.
It’s been 20 minutes. My mouth does NOT taste like a sugar-plum-fairy used it as a toilet, so I guess I’m okay on at least one count.
Tomorrow — no carbs, and a round of Disc Golf. The day after… well, Tuesday is as good a day to show up at the gym in my fat suit as any other, right?