In Episode 16, I said I had no timetables. This isn’t entirely true, but my timetable is a loose one and adaptable to my lifestyle. For 3 1/2 years, my lifestyle was co-opted by my low carb way of eating, and I figured it was time to switch.
There are reasons why I’ve gone back on Atkins (somewhat) since the baby’s been born:
- I genuinely feel better on plan: No sinus problems, no joint aches (although I hear the joint pain is normal during pregnancy), no episodes of hypoglycemia.
- I lost most of the muscle I needed to carry around all this extra weight and I can’t possibly carry another baby at this size.
- I want to set a good example for my children as to their relationship with food, i.e., I don’t want them to have issues with food at all. I certainly don’t want them to spend their lives obsessing about it like I did. I’m not really quite sure how to accomplish this, but I also don’t want to be a hypocrite about it.
- My husband is trying to stay on plan, and he has a difficult time of it when I am off plan. Besides, sex is more fun when we’re both thinner.
- I’m still a clothes horse at heart, and I’d like to be able to wear not only the things I wore at 232 (just a year and a half ago) and more, but I’d like to just feel comfortable in clothes again.
- I don’t want my children’s peers to feel obligated inform them that their mammy’s fat. This happened to me when I was about nine, and I didn’t deny it (how could I logically deny a fact delivered matter-of-factly?), but it hurt my mother tremendously that I didn’t stand up for her honor.
- I believe wholeheartedly that low carb is the end-all and be-all of what a human’s diet should entail. Of course, knowing and doing are two different things, as anybody who’s ever been to church can attest.
- And last, but not least, I really, truly, honestly hate the way I look, and I avoid mirrors and cameras if I possibly can. That has to stop.
It is true that I have two out of the three things I’ve always wanted out of life: A husband and a child (more on the way, hopefully). The third thing, of course, is to be thin. Or at least thinner. I’ve also discovered that with two of the three things in the bag, I have time and that a woman’s life most likely doesn’t end at 40.
However, sometimes one has to go in different directions and take side trips one does not want to take to find things that work to continue to lose weight.
I am facing the next level of low carb. It has many names: anti-yeast, paleo, Gold Standard, MOVE (meat, oil, vegetables, eggs). I’m sure there are many people who have other names for it. My name for it is hell.
In February of 2002, I hit a very important mini-goal of 245, as I have explained in earlier episodes. Getting there from 245 was every bit as arduous as losing the previous 135 pounds. I bounced around between 232 and 245 on a more or less monthly basis from August 2001 until March of 2002. The schedule looked like this:
I hit 245 some time after ovulation, become horrified, and go on strict anti-yeast for the two weeks before my menses begin. At that time, I am rewarded with a six or seven pound loss and I pat myself on the back.
Post six- or seven-pound loss, I “forget” that some Atkins things I can’t/shouldn’t eat (e.g., cheese – just a little on my salad – or tomato products and vinegar – the best no-carb taco sauce and BBQ sauce in town – or onions) and slowly begin gaining again until about three days before ovulation.
At that time, I begin to have what seems to be uncontrollable cravings, which, combined with hormonally-induced melancholy (because heaven knows I have no actual REASON to resent my life), conspire against me, and the next thing I know, I have some garlic bread or some such nonsense.
Heavy sarcasm aside, I could only take responsibility for my own actions, and part of owning one’s actions is understanding why one does something, and figuring out what one wants. I knew what I wanted: to be thin.
But then the rules changed. My body became a stranger to me again, and I was going to have to work through all the stuff I’d already worked through. I was going to have discard more beloved foods (Atkins-legal) if I wanted to crack that 232 pound mark. I was going to have to bite the bullet and be antiyeast/paleo/Gold Standard/hell all the time, and I went off the deep end.
So here I am, at 340-something post-delivery, in the same position I was a year and a half ago, only I’m 100 pounds heavier and the situation is much, much worse: I had four courses of penicillin while I was pregnant, I ate what I wanted during that time, my body changed in ways I’m still not comfortable with (my sense of smell and taste buds changed), and I still don’t have that same level of motivation I did when I was losing in preparation to meet The Captain.
I have to start over again. Atkins does a fine job of allowing me to maintain, but it now will not allow me to lose.
I am overwhelmed by this most days, when I think about it.