It's do or diet...

It has begun.
For several years now, we've gradually 'healthied' up our diet. In my case, when Eva met me, it couldn't have been much worse. We took things slowly, figuring that a shock treatment would be actively unpleasant. First we eliminated white bread. After about a week, I no longer missed it; after a month I found myself preferring whole wheat (and try telling that to me as a kid!) Now, I find white bread pasty and tasteless.
We've veered back and forth on margarine and butter, following conflicting advice. Yes, butter is fattier, but at least there are only two ingredients in it (one if it's unsalted) and both of them are simple monosyllables that don't require a degree in chemistry to decipher.
I joined the crowd in stepping down from 2% to 1% milk. Ten years ago, 2% outsold 1% by more than two to one; now, they're nearly equal sellers. Then I took it one step further and tried skim. Well, one has to draw the line somewhere, and I draw mine at milkwater. Luckily, there's Natrel filtered milk: the skim tastes just like 1%.
We added vegetables. Now, don't get me wrong: a produce manager I am not. If someone lined up ten vegetables at random out of a good-sized produce department, I'd be lucky to correctly identify half of them. But simple salads became a regular part of our suppers. Granted, head lettuce is pretty much empty calories...but not many of them!
All of this combined healthy eating, coupled with the moderate amount of exercise I get--mostly, admittedly, at work--did its job. I stopped gaining weight.
But didn't lose any.
Nope, excepting the daily vagaries of--how does one phrase this in a genteel fashion?--the bowels, I've maintained the same damn weight for going on five years. And that weight, sad to say, isn't exactly healthy.
"Hey! I'm in shape! Round is a shape!"
Except I'm not in shape, and haven't been for about fifteen years now. I've never had flexibility and likely never will, but even so, I don't recall tying my shoelaces to be such a...gasp...gasp...chore when I was in my early teens. You know it's time to do something when you're out of breath from hardly moving.
"I've got the body of a god...too bad it's the Buddha."
It came time to re-examine our eating habits. What we realized was that we were eating portions far too large for our routine...particularly of carbohydrates. Mmmmm, carbs. Potatoes and pasta and rice and bread and--is there anything out there carby I don't like?
Eva has been advised by our doctor that for a woman of her size and metabolic rate (that being: "very large" and "in reverse") , a low-carb diet is the way to go. She's toyed with it before, but never really dedicated herself to it for any serious length of time. After awhile, you starting dreaming of spaghetti and waking up on a vast and scrumptious pillow of mashed potatoes. Eventually, you give in to temptation and poof! there goes your diet.
Now, we're trying again, on a modified Atkins plan, and we're adhering strictly to it for two weeks. (Well, Eva's thinking beyond that--like forever--but I'll forego my french fries two weeks at a time, thank you...) I figure if we notice results in that time--and the opinion of medical science is that we certainly will--then we'll be motivated to stay the course and skip the courses.
Eva announced her intentions at her work, and added that I would be joining her on this diet. From what she said, I've become something of a wonder around her office. I can't think why.
She reports the general consensus to be 'if I went on a diet, I'd be lucky if my husband didn't specifically demand I cook him all the foods I'm not supposed to eat, and then smack his lips over them. Join me?! Never!'
Yup...sounds like some people have shitty husbands.
Okay, first of all, it's not like I'm one of those people who goes to gyms. (Those people, in case you didn't know, are defined as "people who do not need to go to gyms.") Seriously. You ever seen anybody truly fat at Expressfit? They kick you off the weights, and never mind that you used to be a bodybuilder and you can still bench-press two of the human twigs they use for instructors.
So--hey, I've got weight to lose. A good fifty pounds of it. There's a good reason to join my wife right there.
And even if I was whipsaw-thin and had a 12-pack of abs, am I so callous and cruel as to (a) eat all the stuff my wife can't; (b) in front of her; and (c) force her to cook it for me? No, sir, no, ma'am, I am not.
Not to mention...I'm lazy. I don't want to cook all my own food. Hobson's choice: I go on this diet and reap the benefits.
One final note. There must have been ten people at my work who gleefully announced that Atkins has gone bankrupt...due to the fact the low-carb fad has passed. I'm supposed to derive from this that low-carb diets don't work and that I'm doomed before I start.
It's true that the Atkins company has declared bankruptcy, but it does not follow that the diet itself is somehow bankrupt. Fact is, there remain many low-carb diets out there: the G.I. index, the Zone, South Beach, SugarBusters, Protein Power...all of them variations on a theme by Atkins.
I'll tell you what's really happened: a whole host of companies jumped on the low-carb bandwagon, came out with a whole host of low-carb products...all of them cheaper than Atkins. (Which isn't to say "cheap".) Atkins couldn't compete.
And while it is true that fewer people are on a low-carb diet now than were a year ago...to me, that merely points out that people love their carbohydrates. Nobody ever said this would be easy. But the doctor says it will be worthwhile.
That's good enough for me.