Coming into the second week of my diet (or fourth week, depending on whose counting…or looking. Granted, most of the second week was thrown out the window because, hello, me, emotional eater got all emotional about a friend and decided to binge the week away) – I would have to say, I’m doing very well. My technique is very simple, nothing stupid, all very scientific. Having been a serial dieter all my life, I picked a very logical one that just suggested a lower calorie count that is within practical limits of the human body and one that encourages 5 portions of fruits a day.
Here is usually where I put in a very snarky joke about it all by saying, nah, I’m just starving myself to death – but no, for once, , I am rather serious about this weight loss thing. I’ve been calorie counting, buying and eating more fruits and I even have a food diary to jot down everything I eat. I don’t deny myself – I buy myself chocolates and I do eat ice-creams. I will have chips (or fries, depends on which continent you like) but in much smaller portions.
It also helps that I’m not alone in this one. My entire family (sans husband) has gone on a diet as well, making it much easier to calorie count and watch the fat intake. Bro has downloaded an app that tells us how many calories each item has outside before we got out for a meal. Mum modifies each meal to make it more low fat.
Husband is a fantastic cheerleader. I am, however, married to the human vacuum cleaner and despite inhaling food amounting twcie his body weight, Eizwan struggles not to lose weight. Yes, he is one of those people dieters love to hate. The ones who consume a Chillis burger and all the chips before washing it down with a coke with no sense of guilt. Heck, he’d have to worry that he’d lose weight if he just skips one meal a day. When a cousin of his commented that he seemed to have lost weight recently, I got overly sensitive. I am feeding my husband, okay?!
So, how is it going, you ask? Well. On a 1200 calorie diet, portions are smaller than what I’m used to – or then what I’d usually like. The five portions of fruit helps, each time I’m hungry, I eat apples, dried apricots and kiwi fruit. I drink more water, trying to get to that 8 glass of water a day and my skin is never better. I have clearer skin, and I actually look less tired compared to a more fatty and heavy diet.
There was a lovely bonus for me today. I tried on a shirt today and for the first time ever, I could comfortably fit into a size M (in Malaysia!!). It was still a little snug, but I was surprised that I could fit into it easily without having to wrestle into it onto the floor and causing the attendant outside to wonder if I brought in a rabid hyena with me. See, I don’t know if I have lost weight – I’m terrified of the weighing scale, it depresses me more than it actually helps, so seeing the change in body in the mirror, let’s just say I had a bit of smug smile all day.
Dammit, what I really, really want right now though, midway through this diet, is to indulge in something ridiculous like a big fat juicy burger from Chillis, dripping with fat and salty chips, soft but not mushy inside, crispy outside and a large icy cold Coke. Or a large helping of lasagna, with all its gooey cheesy mess and meaty tomato sauce, paired with an indulgent appetizer like an artichoke dip. Something that makes you feel very guilty and very good inside. Something that makes the dopamine in your brain explode in ecstasy, going further and further before your brain switches off, almost to the point of revulsion but not quite.
It was certainly lovely that I’ve lost weight, even my mum has commented that I’ve lost weight. I told her all the benefits of going on this diet. I’m slimmer, healthier but am certainly, by no means, more satisfied.