Remember two years ago when I declared my war on carbs? Suffice to say the short term success was eclipsed by the long term damage to my metabolism. In other words when I started eating carbs again I blew up like a blimp. Since then I have tried various means of waging war against my waistline, including decreasing calories and going for extended periods without drinking. I also tried to become a full-time smoker (I failed). God help me, I even went to the gym for a while.
I have come to discover that there is a direct correlation between weight loss and suffering. In the vernacular I believe this is referred to as “proper diet and exercise.” Now normally, being a person who enjoys rich foods and fine wines, and who prefers the sight of my own blood to sweat, I tend to avoid the whole proper diet and exercise thing when possible. No I prefer random bouts of starvation. Unfortunately that apparently causes your metabolism to slow down, which means you gain more weight when you start eating again. (Take note anorexics.)
So two years after the war on carbs I found myself once again approaching the mass and body shape of a small whale and I knew something had to be done. Something drastic. I did my homework, researched various options and discovered an ultra-low calorie diet that uses natural hormones to suppress the appetite and convince your body to burn fat stores but not muscle mass.
This goes way beyond my private war on carbs. There is a list of fruits, vegetables and lean meats I can eat. It is a short list. In order to control my carbohydrate cravings I am permitted two breadsticks per day. I weigh my food on a little scale to make sure I don’t go over my caloric allotment. I drink water. Nothing else. Just water. (In theory I can have tea, but tea just makes me think how much better it would taste with bourbon in it.)
The program lasts for about six weeks (I have currently just finished the second week). After that there is a three week transition phase in which I slowly allow my body to start taking in a more normal amount of food. In theory this will prevent the sort of blimp-like behavior I saw after my last drastic diet. Of course they also suggest that I continue to eat the kinds of healthy foods I am supposedly becoming accustomed to and that I exercise regularly. (See it ALWAYS comes back to proper diet and exercise.) I haven’t read anything about it but I bet they expect me to moderate my drinking too. Assholes.
I had two primary concerns when I started this diet. The first was obviously that I would effectively be giving up drinking for the better part of the summer, which I think we can agree is a really good time for drinking. My second (and far more serious) concern was something called carbohydrate withdrawal. It works something like this: Eating carbohydrates increases the production of serotonin in the brain, making you feel happy. If you eat enough of them it might even be like taking ecstasy. I have absolutely no scientific data to back that last part up but it would explain why I have been known to scarf down pizza at 4 a.m.
So anyway, when you deprive your body of carbs you are essentially decreasing your serotonin levels leading to unhappy feelings and maybe even depression. This explains the title of my post. You may substitute pizza for cookie if you like, but I thought cookie sounded funnier. Nearly everyone I’ve met has been impressed with my ability to quit drinking cold turkey. What no one seems to realize is that giving up drinking is nothing, I repeat NOTHING compared to giving up carbs. I had a dream about eating pizza last night. I am so not even kidding. My dream consistent of me sitting at a table eating a pizza.
At this point you’re probably wondering where I have found the self control to stick to this torture, given my history as a paragon of restraint and moderation. Well it’s not easy, but fortunately I was able to dig down and discover a vast well of power inside me. It’s some mixture of vanity and self loathing. I’m not really sure what the proportions are, but it has been an effective tool. And you had better hope it doesn’t run out before this diet is over. If it does I suggest for your own sake you hand over that motherfucking cookie while you still have an arm to hold it.
