That’s right, it’s day 7. When I go to sleep tonight, I’ll have not had any solid food for a solid week.
So here’s the TL/DR for those of you with the attention span of a cracked-out hummingbird.
- Weight: 283 — down 9.8 pounds
- Measurements:
- Neck: 19 1/8th — down 1/8th of an inch
- Chest: 48.75 — down 3/4th of an inch
- Stomach: 50.75″ — down 3.25 inches (!)
- Waist: 45.5 — down 2 inches
What puzzles me is that I actually gained six-tenths of a pound today, somehow. I try not to drink a bunch of water or juice before I weigh myself, but that’s the only thing I can think of. Maybe it just hasn’t all processed yet. Still, down almost 10 pounds and over eight inches (combined) is a pretty big deal.
I was really surprised at the loss in my stomach measurement. For obvious reasons, I don’t pay much attention to it, but it doesn’t seem to me to have gone down much, visually. But the numbers don’t lie, so I’m taking this as a good sign. I knew I’d lost inches off my waist, just from the way my jeans are falling off, but that was a pleasant surprise.
So, it’s been a week, and I’m still hungry nearly all the time. This doesn’t surprise me, though, and I was prepared for it, or at least thought I was. It’s not painful hunger, just a constant gnawing that I can now ignore, for the most part. I still think about food a lot, but that too isn’t unusual. What I’m amazed at is the amount of time I used to spend preparing for or eating meals. When you only ‘eat’ twice a day, and even then it only takes less than ten minutes, there’s a lot more time in your day.
I’d like to address something a friend of mine brought up in regard to this fast. He suggested that the reason I’m doing this ‘crash diet’ — another misconception I’ll get to in a minute — is for vanity. Meaning, I’m doing it just to look better. The fact is that’s not the case. Will I feel better about myself and end up looking better because of this? Sure. And yes, that’s part of it. But my primary motivation is to be healthier. It’s phenomenally unhealthy to be nearly 40 and still weigh 300 pounds. If I don’t do something about it, I’ll be putting myself at significantly increased risk for everything from heart disease to kidney failure.
For someone who’s already had one heart attack (at 22), let me tell you, it’s not something I’d like to repeat. The fact that I’ll be able to fit into old jeans is just a side benefit of being healthy, not the end goal.
As to this being a crash diet, it’s really not. I prepared for the diet by eating healthy meals for about a week before I started, except my final day of solid food and a friend’s birthday. Lots of salad, etc. I’d long ago cut out soda, I don’t drink coffee and not much tea, and I drink alcohol only rarely. I’d also cut way back on carbs, dairy, sugar (almost eliminating it completely) and everything else that is “bad” for you. So it was hardly a crash diet.
I’m not an idiot. If I start getting serious side-effects and feeling like death warmed over, then I’ll see a doctor or start eating solid foods again. I’m not in this to kill or permanently injure myself. But so far, it’s not that bad, and I’m staying strong.
On Monday (Day 5), I went to my monthly writer’s group meeting. I was more than a little dubious about going, since the group meets at a Greek restaurant that I really like, and humus is one of my favorite things. I won’t lie: it was very difficult to not order something, especially when one of the waiters held a steaming-hot calzone 4 inches from my face, asking if it was mine. Though he never knew it, he was in mortal peril. Still, I resisted.
If I eat solid food now, then the entirety of the process up until this point, and all the Hell I’ve gone through to get here, is wasted. Useless. Well, not totally, because I see the value of veggies and fruits and yadda yadda yadda… it’s useless, okay? And the longer I go, the easier it will be to resist, since there’ll be more Hell behind me that will be wasted.
SO. At the end of Day 7, I’m committed to continuing this journey. I can handle Day 8. Day 60 will take care of itself. Who wants some juice?
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