Flying Cakes

Diets are a cruel, cruel thing. I had a different post planned for today but the thing is, I can't seem to think about anything else beside chocolate. Or cakes. Or chocolate cakes. I can see them in front of my eyes, like Frodo on the last leg of his quest, I can see nothing but the cake. I sit here typing this and all I can see instead of letters on my keyboard are tiny pieces of chocolate. My computer screen is a sea of vanilla and chocolate flakes, and the iPhone next to it is in fact a giant cookie. I am loosing my mind, and there is nothing I can do about it because, like I tell Ron - you did the crime, you do the time. And boy did I do the crime...

Today is day 7 of "establishing healthier eating habits" or as I like to call it "living in hell", so it means it's been 7 days since I last ate anything not resembling a vegetable, and just so you know, fruits are not a substitute for cake. Not all sugar was born equal.
7 days ago I have reached the point of no return. I finished Christmas and stepped on the scales, to discover what I already knew from looking in the mirror (and trying to put my trousers on) - there is nowhere to run (except on the treadmill), I can't close my eyes and pretend the mirror is fattening, and no matter how many times I step on and off the scales it will still be there - my shame.
Yes, it's my shame. Because this is what I swore will not happen to me - I will not be one of those people who lost a lot of weight and looked great and then gained it all back plus some. And here I am well on my way to be the biggest cliche in town.
And so, though I told Hidai I refuse to call it a new year resolution, I emptied the fridge and all the cupboards of anything that falls under the category of "tasty" and filled it instead with enough fruits, vegetables and Weight Watchers products to open a tiny pick-your-own farm. I have chosen to go down the safe route of Weight Watchers again, because I know it works and because I already have the app (ok. More because I already have the app). Being an antisocial prima donna that never does anything the way it should be done, I of course don't do the whole meetings thing, I don't belong to any local or online group. It's just me and the app, and occasionally when I feel extremely miserable (about once every couple of hours) - Hidai, who has to suffer also, because why should I be the only one? and can eat no chocolate or sweets or Muller corners.

The first time I went on a real "changing your lifestyle" diet I was worried about the boys. No, I wasn't worried I would think they are cakes - I am a vegetarian after all, I was worried about how to explain dieting without ruining the fact that they are oblivious to body image, have good eating habits and get enough exercise and without needing to resort to using the great answer to everything - "it's a girl thing". I ended selling the whole "changing to a healthier lifestyle" that includes eating everything in moderation, reaching a good BMI, and exercising. This time around all they cared about was the salad. Ron, because for some reason he decided that the making of the salad is fun, and Yon because it's his mortal enemy and he would rather eat rocks than salad.
The thing is, Weight Watchers is all about the salad. At the end of the day it's not a bad system, it's just that it has one BIG problem - portion size. You know how when you have a baby and you start weaning it, they tell you that you should take an ice-cube tray and fill it with baby food and each cube is a portion? Weight Watchers portions are exactly the same size. I mean what sane person can feel satisfied after eating 100 grams of pasta for lunch? It doesn't matter if you are hungry or not. It's that if you are sitting to eat with other people, by the time everyone else finished piling their plates you're already clearing yours off the table. It's unsatisfying. That is why they have vegetables - because you can eat as many of those as you like (well not including potatoes and chocolate of course. But a big yes for cucumbers and lettuce), and here is where that salad comes in. It takes a long time to eat a gigantic bowl of salad (no dressing. No olive oil. No croutons.) and you get to feel like you ate a real meal and you are actually a grown person. After all, in order to make 100 grams of pasta look presentable you have to put it in the kids plates.

And that isn't the worst part of it. It's the snacking that really gets to me. My problem (with food. Not my only one) is that I have the worse eating habits in the world (and as my physiotherapist added, also not good with the whole using my muscles correctly. So worst at using a body apparently). I am what you can fondly call a snacker, or less fondly - a person who never stops eating. Unless I'm in public. I don't eat in public. At home, and especially when I'm alone, I eat all day long. Every two hours I have to have something to eat. Now I don't eat a lot, but I only eat unhealthy things. That is unless they changed the rules and made biscuits the new fruits. It's not like Weight Watchers say you can't snack, I hear you whispering in the corner. Of course not, they have a "anytime" category after all. But when you only get 26 points for a whole day, and that 100 grams of pasta was 5 (before sauce. Did I mention that?), it doesn't leave a lot for snacking. Again, this is were fruits come in. And I can't stress this enough - it sucks. A banana is not a substitute for a biscuit. Lets put it this way - a lemon is not a substitute to lemon curd spread on a lotus biscuit. And don't judge until you've tried it.
And even that is not the worst part. Oh no, the worst part starts today, because today I start the  exercise part of it all. Now I know what you are going to say, everyone loves exercise, it releases endorphins, and once you get into it you get addicted to it. I know, I heard all these lies people who work at the gym say too. The truth is you get addicted to things that are enjoyable, like booze or chocolate or white sugar. Or trashy TV. But how in the name of.... How can you get addicted to wearing those uncomfortable clothes that emphasise every little thing you hate about your body, sweating like a pig no matter how low the thermostat is set, and looking like a complete and utter idiot while you are doing something so wrong it should be illegal? Yes, yes, you don't have to tell me, I know it's the results. You get addicted to the results, and to not having back pain and to not grunting every time you sit down. The thing is, you don't really. I mean I like the results, who doesn't? But is it really worth me having to suffer through the whole 4 times a week of running and Pilates to get them while I continuously scream profanities and death threats at the TV (I am not crazy enough to actually let other people see me exercise)? I have been doing Pilates for 11 years now, and walking or running for 8. I can honestly say without a moment hesitation - I still hate it with the same passion. And I keep the hate alive, because that hatred is the only thing getting me through it. I really can't understand people whose panting while they run isn't "I hate you, you f*&^ng treadmill. I wish you would break down right here and right now you son of a...." you get my point I'm sure.
And yet, here I am, on my way to go and start this torture again. Because deep down I know the truth - Those who bitch while on the torture device also known as treadmill are better off than those who bitch while standing on the sideline, after all they are closer to reaching their ultimate goal.
Being able to eat cake again.