|If we look long enough, that's a ice cream cone.|
Prefab Plan - I went long, assembling my meals from those frozen dinner boxes.
Sports enhancing drugs - You don't test for Dexatrim, do you?
The Calorie Count - Once upon a time, I could eyeball a whole meal and get within 50 calories.
Leaving it in the training room - Ninety minutes a day, floor calisthenics and aerobic machine, every goldurn day for years.
Portion sizing - My palm, my scale, my doll-sized plates.
Starvation Marathon - Five days with nothing but water and B complex pills. Bring it!
In this contest, you win... by losing. And I was a winner. I lost and lost and lost and lost. But the weight always came back, with friends.
That is because I was not addressing the actual problem. The actual problem was that my metabolism was not designed to handle the flood of carbohydrates the "nutritional experts" were pushing on me. I'm a bright girl, I do system processing, and I actually did put together low fat meals with lots of healthy whole grains which fit within their calorie guidelines. And exercised. A lot.
But as I neared forty, the stupid weight started creeping up again... and there was nothing I could do about it. I couldn't exercise enough, or eat as little, as my body apparently wanted in order to not gain weight. So I did.
It doesn't matter how much we apply ourselves if we aren't doing it right.