Deanna and I have ventured up here for the 4th of July weekend, and naturally, after planning out our weekend and making sure we include the Carp-O-Rama in those plans, in keeping with the holiday we meet up with Mike M. to go to a Chinese restaurant. I’m pretty sure I can find something appropriately tasteless and boring ala Stillmans there. Of course, it’s not long before trouble arises.
Deanna, to the waitress: Say, these Happy Chinese Puffy Goodness Delights on the menu, are those the fried dough things rolled in sugar?
Waitress: Yes they are.
Deanna: Great, we’ll have a whole stack of them!
I sit there steeped in virtue as Deanna and Mike stuff ball after ball of fried doughy goodness down their gullets, and wait for the weight to instantaneously start dropping off. After all, I think it’s a cardinal rule that the amount of weight you lose and the speed with which you lose it is indirectly proportional to the tastiness of the food you’re foregoing. And fried dough, well, that’s pretty much my favorite food in the world. Along with pizza, Cheez-Its, mochi, Annette’s chocolate nutella cake, donuts, barbecue, and pancakes. And of course cheese, which kind of goes without saying. Anyway, I wait for the 10 pounds to dissolve from my hips. And wait. And wait. And start pouting, while Deanna and Mike give me gloating, sugar-encrusted grins. I hate them.
“Stan” and I decide to go to the new Superdawg in Wheeling, to mark our birthdays, and in preparation I haven’t eaten all day, so that I can have my mai tai when we go to Bob Chinn’s next door afterwards. I’m determined to stick to Stillmans, so instead of the glorious Superdawgski – “nestled in a box with French fries” – I instead have the delightful yet boring SuperChickenski, i.e. a grilled chicken breast on a bun. Stan, being an intelligent human being, orders the Superdawgski, and….
Stan: Hey, should we get some onion chips?
Me, muttering: I’m on a diet.
Stan: What’s that?
Me: I’m ON A DIET! So that I’m not FAT AND MISERABLE for the rest of my MISERABLE FAT life! So NO I CAN’T HAVE ANY DELICIOUS ONION CHIPS!
Me, adding: But you go ahead, don’t deprive yourself.
He adds the onion chips to the order, and there we are chit-chatting away, eating our food, me gnawing on the chicken breast sans bread, when…..
Stan: …..so my viewpoint on Avogadro’s Number has always been a little bit different from the mainstream scientific thought, in that I think…..wait. What’s this? What happened to the rest of the onion chips?
Me, grinning sheepishly: Oops.
Okay, so sue me, I had 6-7 onion chips! I don’t know why I even bother with the damn diet anyway. Let’s see, I “cheated” with a handful of delectable fried onion chips, which when added to the chicken breast, water, and mai tai I had the rest of the day still doesn’t amount to very much. My reward? Gained 2.5 pounds the next day. I hate life.
LARD (Long Ass Ride Day), # whatever
In spite of the extra weight making me feel like I’m toting around 10 frozen hams with me, I continue the daily riding in the somewhat futile hope of making it up the Alps. Or even an Alp. I just want to make it up ONE Alp please.
And naturally, I’ve had every mishap known to man. The flat tires. The rip in the tire instead of the tube. The shifting problems. The meth head. The extreme heat and wind. The poor fit on the bike that makes every ride a new study in pain. I think today is the day, after the gazillion mile ride in the heat and wind, that I make it back to my mom’s and say fuck it to Stillmans, and have some cheese and a Coke as my post-ride recovery snack. Where are the purported 15-25 pounds I was supposed to lose in 2 weeks? Not here, my friends, not here.
The birthday party
I’ve been tracking my calories religiously, and in spite of the occasional lapse, I have yet to go over 1600 calories a day, and that includes the GU and such that I use on my rides. So basically I’ve been running a serious calorie deficit each and every day.
And tonight, in preparation for Robyn’s 40th birthday party, I’ve had my usual austere meals of roasted chicken and zucchini, with a few blueberries thrown in for good measure. Just in case there’s something worthwhile to sample at the party. Like, say, cake? Ah yes, Nettie has made another one of her delectable creations – a chocolate Nutella cake. Who can resist?
I idly make the comment - as I eat my tiny sliver of cake – that this is the first not-on-my-diet food I’ve had in eons, since I’m not really counting the post-90-mile-ride-ounce-of-cheese as a lapse. Right after I say this, I’m met with silence by Colleen and Bridget, who give my fat little self The Look, and I can see the thought bubbles over their heads clear as day: “Umm, right, who are you trying to kid?” That hurts.
Body for StillButter?
An astute friend posts the following video to FB, which I immediately glom onto, as this could be the key to everything:
You see, I could handle the fact that Stillmans doesn’t allow, well, much of anything. No Cheez-Its. No cake. No pizza. But….no fruit? No. That’s just not possible.
But I soon realize that by combining Stillmans and its stinginess – I mean austerity - with the Butterfield Plan and the free day, and throwing a bit of Body for Life in there as well so that I have another free day, that leads to this: a diet where I can eat whatever I want for 48 hours – including my beloved bonBONbonbons - and then get by on the Stilmans’ 3 olives/day the rest of the week. Score!
I will report back.