Day three in the lighter life house. 1.34pm. I wouldn’t call what I feel as being “flu like”, but I am feeling very tired and a tad fed up. I am so used to grazing on fruit and fruit juice throughout the day that I have had to physically stop myself from snatching a blueberry or a peach from the fruit bowl.
Yesterday I bought some chicken, peppers and noodles for a stir-fry for the boy, and he whipped up a lovely smelling concoction that looked delicious. I don’t even eat chicken!
That said, I can see increasingly how my life seems to focus constantly on food. How, this time last week I would have had a big bowl of cereal, some fruit, lots of juice, possibly followed by a large cappuccino and either cake or a toastie at the café, and I would now be tucking into a large lunch, followed by snacks, most probably sugary, throughout the afternoon. It just cannot be healthy. And much as I feel I am suffering a little now, it bears little resemblance to how I would suffer having had a heart attack or a stroke, or some sort of obesity related cancer. I have to snap out of this way of living, for my own good, and for the good of my kids. I miss the fistful of jelly beans, that delicious sugar rush, the sugary tanginess on the tongue. But blimey, how long does that feeling last for? Is it worth it? If it was once every so often, fine. But every day? Can I really be enjoying that toasted sarnie so much? (Okay, maybe day two into the diet, I am inclined to say “YES YES YES!”, but there is something wrong with the connection between my brain and my stomach if I am able to wolf down so much in such a short amount of time. If I am “enjoying” it, what am I enjoying exactly? The taste? I don’t think so. The cheese in our local café is pretty tasteless. The carb rush? What is food doing to me when I eat it in such large quantities, and finish still wanting more? It occurs to me how little I know about the basic biology of food and the body. I never did biology in school beyond O Level, but that is no excuse. It’s my body, and it’s up to me to know how it works, so I don’t break the bloody thing before it’s warranty runs out.
Another issue is booze. I really like wine. Lots of. And apart from when I was pregnant and breastfeeding this is the first time in uncountable years that I will have gone for more than three days or so without even having a glass of something. I suspect this is an issue that will only raise its ugly head in about a week. Some old friends are coming to stay for the night at the weekend having moved to Oz about a year ago. No doubt the corks will be popping, glasses overflowing, and the banter running free. I don’t think they will have ever seen me [i]without[/i] a glass of booze in my hand. I will also be absent for a couple of hours of the evening at my “meeting”. I don’t know whether to tell them about Lighter Life, or whether to lie and say that I have to nip out to the out of hours surgery because I am sick (and hence can’t eat) to get some antibiotics (and hence I can’t drink.) and had to queue (hence the rude unexplained absence for a couple of hours). The latter sounds implausible, and will involve a convoluted web of lies about my health, lots of “poor me”s, and will also entail having to get the boy to lie too. Neither of us are any good at fibs, we always get things muddled. They will probably think that I have joined Alcoholics Anonymous and am being coy about it. Gah, I don’t know what to do. I think I’ll probably have to come clean about my secret club, and hope that they understand that by having to leave them for a couple of hours it shows that it is important to me. I was hoping to keep schtum about it for a while yet. At least until I looked a bit slimmer if nothing else.
Yesterday I bought some chicken, peppers and noodles for a stir-fry for the boy, and he whipped up a lovely smelling concoction that looked delicious. I don’t even eat chicken!
That said, I can see increasingly how my life seems to focus constantly on food. How, this time last week I would have had a big bowl of cereal, some fruit, lots of juice, possibly followed by a large cappuccino and either cake or a toastie at the café, and I would now be tucking into a large lunch, followed by snacks, most probably sugary, throughout the afternoon. It just cannot be healthy. And much as I feel I am suffering a little now, it bears little resemblance to how I would suffer having had a heart attack or a stroke, or some sort of obesity related cancer. I have to snap out of this way of living, for my own good, and for the good of my kids. I miss the fistful of jelly beans, that delicious sugar rush, the sugary tanginess on the tongue. But blimey, how long does that feeling last for? Is it worth it? If it was once every so often, fine. But every day? Can I really be enjoying that toasted sarnie so much? (Okay, maybe day two into the diet, I am inclined to say “YES YES YES!”, but there is something wrong with the connection between my brain and my stomach if I am able to wolf down so much in such a short amount of time. If I am “enjoying” it, what am I enjoying exactly? The taste? I don’t think so. The cheese in our local café is pretty tasteless. The carb rush? What is food doing to me when I eat it in such large quantities, and finish still wanting more? It occurs to me how little I know about the basic biology of food and the body. I never did biology in school beyond O Level, but that is no excuse. It’s my body, and it’s up to me to know how it works, so I don’t break the bloody thing before it’s warranty runs out.
Another issue is booze. I really like wine. Lots of. And apart from when I was pregnant and breastfeeding this is the first time in uncountable years that I will have gone for more than three days or so without even having a glass of something. I suspect this is an issue that will only raise its ugly head in about a week. Some old friends are coming to stay for the night at the weekend having moved to Oz about a year ago. No doubt the corks will be popping, glasses overflowing, and the banter running free. I don’t think they will have ever seen me [i]without[/i] a glass of booze in my hand. I will also be absent for a couple of hours of the evening at my “meeting”. I don’t know whether to tell them about Lighter Life, or whether to lie and say that I have to nip out to the out of hours surgery because I am sick (and hence can’t eat) to get some antibiotics (and hence I can’t drink.) and had to queue (hence the rude unexplained absence for a couple of hours). The latter sounds implausible, and will involve a convoluted web of lies about my health, lots of “poor me”s, and will also entail having to get the boy to lie too. Neither of us are any good at fibs, we always get things muddled. They will probably think that I have joined Alcoholics Anonymous and am being coy about it. Gah, I don’t know what to do. I think I’ll probably have to come clean about my secret club, and hope that they understand that by having to leave them for a couple of hours it shows that it is important to me. I was hoping to keep schtum about it for a while yet. At least until I looked a bit slimmer if nothing else.
I had a dream last night that I was out somewhere with the boy, and he was spreading some creamy butter on some hot toast, and I had a slice, and a few glasses of wine. (Obviously a very classy restaurant!) Suddenly I remember that I am on a strict diet prohibiting all food apart from my foodpacks, and go into a panic, because I have sent boy to the supermarket to get more wine. I am then stuffing my locker full with the bread with the intent to hide the key, but I am still worried about what will happen because I have “lapsed”. But I have lost the key, and I can’t lock the locker!! Panic! It all felt so real, and then I woke up, realised it was a dream and had a banana milkshake. It is clearly getting to me. :D
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