Many of you have kindly asked for an update on my venture into the world of the South Beach diet. (And I will not, will not use the word "diet" again. It’s a Lifestyle Change.) I’ve learned a lot the last few weeks. Here’s the summary.
I’ve lost seven pounds in three weeks (okay, actually 6.5, but it’s my blog and I can round up if I want to). My husband (eating identical foods and doing identical physical activity) has lost 15. It’s a good thing I love that man so much; otherwise I’d smother him in his sleep.
That aside, I’m feeling remarkably encouraged. The South Beach Lifestyle Change (See? There it is again–) is manageable and healthy. I don’t feel hungry, and for the most part, I don’t feel tempted to cheat.
Psychologically this Lifestyle Change is easier for me than Weight Watchers ever was (I’ve done WW three times before, and I always fell–or, more accurately, rolled–off the wagon.) I am, I learned, truly a carb addict. When Weight Watchers told me I could have a baked potato, or french fries, or a couple of oreos in moderation, it was like telling an alcoholic to drink watered-down vodka. My carb-craving system just couldn’t handle that freedom (and I had the blood sugar numbers to prove it). It has actually been quite liberating to tell myself that my potato chip/french fry days are OVER. I guess I’m an all-or-nothing kind of girl.
By far, the hardest part of this has been changing the way I cook. Think of every quick and easy and cheap meal you know–they are nearly all bad-carb-laden, I suspect. This Lifestyle Change is requiring me to re-learn how I cook and shop. It’s more expensive and more time-consuming–and, I’ll be honest, that’s overwhelming at times. But I try to remind myself that it’s considerably less expensive and time-consuming than diabetes would be, which is where I fear Hubs and I were heading.
I’ve stocked up on some new cookbooks (recommended by DeeDee). I’ve learned that turnips are a decent substitute for potatoes in a roast, and that there are something that NEVER EVER SHOULD BE DONE with cauliflower. I’ve learned that life without potato chips is surprisingly painless, and that Diet Cokes are even more sacred without the Little Debbie chaser.
So I plan to plug along at this, whittling away at my blood sugar numbers and watching my husband shrink before my very eyes. At the rate I’m going, I’m months and months away from my weight goal. But I’ll get there. I will.