I began eating paleo at the end of March in the hopes of getting to a more ideal body weight. This goal is (primarily) twofold: I want to look better naked, and I want to perform better in physical endeavors (so at SPARK, hockey and ball hockey). This is my second time trying to eat paleo; I had moderate success the first time (it made me feel better), but I cheated a lot more. Essentially, M was away on a course and would come back on the week-ends. So I would eat paleo during the week and then cram away the carbs when she was back. My paleo eating choices the first time also weren’t so great. But hey, live and learn. That’s what round two was for, right?
So this time around, I follow a ton of paleo blogs so that I can have constant recipe inspiration. I have a better grip on the whys and hows of what I’m doing. The number that I started with on the scale was a huge motivator to get on the paleo wagon and stop hopping on and off because I needed to get that weight off.
Fast forward two months. I’m down 18 pounds. I’ve gotten comments at the gym. My dress pants fit again. The shorts that I bought at the end of April are getting a little too loose and the ones that I tried on then that didn’t fit I bought this last week-end. After spending two years buying my lunch almost every day, I have brought a lunch for eight weeks straight. I don’t feel tired or bloated after every meal. I am more clear-headed and the black cloud that I’ve felt follow me around as long as I can remember isn’t there anymore. What paleo has given me thus far, honestly, is nothing short of amazing.
But – and even as I write it I can see how ridiculous it is – thoughts keep popping into my head that I need to abandon ship because the scale has been stuck in the same spot for the last two weeks. Batten down the hatches, because now I will never reach my goal. Abandon all hope, ye who enter here. If the pounds can’t continue to fly off, then obviously this paleo thing must be crap – and if it’s crap, why am I denying myself all the awesome foods I’m missing. Shit, I want my damn burrito and I want it right now! Stomach pains be damned, I want my chips!
This is the part where I ignore the fact that the last two weeks are also when I started to cheat a little bit more. You see, for the first six weeks of my paleo life, unlike some people, for whom there are cravings and hunger and assorted badness, me and paleo went on a wonderous honeymoon. I didn’t experience gnawing hunger (something I was quite familiar with). I felt full and sated an incredibly large portion of the time. Then, “that time” of the month arrived. I was no longer full. I ate my lunch at 10:30 in the morning and then scrounged for seconds by 1:00. By the time “that time” was over, well, it was time for the May 2-4 week-end. Off to a party at a friend’s place! Oh look, beans! I’ll take some of those. And this fruit dip. And maybe I’ll eat four hot dogs (in my defense, they weren’t all at once! Not much of a defense, but still…). And then my referee assignor called me last minute. No time to find dinner? It’s ok, I’ll eat a Builders Bar. And then I had to run from the gym to pick up my dog and go straight to agility. Well, the Builders Bar worked last time. Finally, McDonald’s started their dollar drink days again; what is one of my favorite things? Giant sodas for a loonie! Gimme my Diet Coke!
Two of these weeks are not like the others…two of these weeks are not the same. Should I really be all that shocked that my progress has stagnated a bit, given that I’ve gone from pretty strict adherence (and a pretty low carb count) to an aspartame and caffeine infused relative-carboload?
Maybe before I throw my paleo baby out with the bath water, I should be a little more realistic about what I’m doing and how what I’m doing may actually be making an impact.
And despite my perfectionist tendencies, 18 pounds in two months is really pretty decent. Maybe if I stop sabotaging myself, I’ll hit 25 in three.
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