I want to lose weight desperately and get curves like those skinny hotties. And who doesn’t want that? And who doesn’t know how to lose weight? It’s simple — Eat less and exercise more, or get surgery.
But the problem is that I’m lazy and I have hyper-active taste buds (ignore if there is no such term). Crispy, tasteless greens make my taste buds dance. They want to jump out of my mouth shouting, "Lady, you have crossed the 30 mark and no matter what you do, you cannot look like them. End this torture now."
What if we all decided that once you reach the age of 29, you don't have to worry about being skinny? Being thin is a young woman's game, and I'm perfectly happy to chill on my couch with a bag of Cheetos, unless I burn some calories while texting.
It's just that people roll their eyes at such remarks, so I swallow it instead. Losing weight has become a culture now. Everyone has turned expert on health and nutrition. In any conversation, it is impossible to avoid talking about calories, what diet one should follow; how to include heart-pumping exercise into your much-busy schedule; a diet where you can eat fried items, or a diet where you eat only for a few hours.
In the midst of such talks, I shovel fistfuls of crunchy potato chips loaded with fats into my mouth. You can have your judgmental nose at my choices if you count calories in unsweetened iced tea. But what should I do? I have an affair with all these greasy items. They seduce me and how much I try to turn back; they lure me in. I vow to end my love affair with them. Till the pack is over, I promise myself, taking a fistful that I won’t come back again. I know what I’m supposed to do; I just need someone to tell me how. Every single day until I die.
It’s not that I’m crazy, should you work out? Of course you should. Should you eat healthy, of course you should. To me it doesn’t have to be hard— I swap a few meals a day for a salad or a special healthy meal. And drink water, to make my belly feel full and distract me when I’m dying for that sugary, syrupy dessert. Also, I count running to the bathroom as my minimal cardiovascular exercise. I have been doing all this for years. And then suddenly my perfect waistline started bulging. That’s another case that I wasn’t happy back then. I hated my dull, sheen-less bony cheeks. I looked like I had never seen food in my life. And this was after galloping tons of fountain Coke, ice-cream pints and saturated fat. Passer-by used to advise me how to gain weight, so that walking in the wind, I shouldn’t fly off like Dorothy.
I tried all the tips to gain weight and failed then. And now I’m failing again in losing. I tried my hands on each possible way to lose weight —but the hard part isn’t the knowing what to do, it’s the doing. No! I am not the queen of excuses. I can run you, a few of them, to prove to those of you who doubt me that there’s really no possible way for me to do this:
I Started Dieting:
I tried giving it a shot to dieting. I deprived myself of food I wanted to eat. But depriving myself of food for hours and hours didn’t make me feel good. In fact, it made me cranky, annoyed, and I felt like pounding on people, if not on food. I was crazy, on the verge of tears all day long. I turned into an insufferable baby by keeping myself off of all the food I love. Keeping clutches off of those greasy items was hard, really hard. A Failed attempt.
Got a Dietitian:
Now, I have hired a professional diet consultant. She sends me a daily menu of what and how much I can eat in a day. I read it like this —every two hours open your mouth, see food, inhale air, and drink water, then weigh your body weight. I also had to carry a journal of my food entries to motivate myself to eat better and note down my calories intake. I started carrying a journal full of lies in my backpack. The only things I noted down were the items with less than 5 grams of fat; anything above that I willfully ignored to note.
Updating my dietician:
Dietician: What’s for lunch?
ME: Lettuce and tomatoes salad
Dietician: What else?
Dietician: and what else?
Me: breaking into a liar’s sweat: Um, oxygen
Dietician: You’re lying
Me: Ok, Ok a slice of the birthday cake and pizza, maybe two
Dietician: AHHh!!! I hate you.
Got a Gym Membership:
I threw away my half salary on gym membership, and also bought a new pair of gym shoes. Since flip flops are frowned upon at the gym. Next was my playlist. I live in fear of the day I go flying off a moving treadmill.
I need something to distract my mind while I walk on the treadmill for thirty minutes. But I still couldn’t understand why some people feel excited about exercise. Because the shot of endorphins that is supposed to occur when you exercise didn't occur to me, and maybe I didn't realize it because it felt the same as a heart attack. I needed a gym instructor to keep me going.
My alarm goes off at 5: 00 a.m. I checked myself if I am alive after my previous day's workout session. Ok, I’m still alive. After a month, adjusting my knee for the tenth time, my trainer said, "You are my most disappointing client." Each month, I pay half of my pay, and drag myself out of bed to face him, who scowls disapprovingly at my push-ups attempts all the time. What to do?
Even though I tend to steer clear of most forms of physical activity, it just happened that I became obsessed with Zumba. I loved it. Thumping, loud music at 10 on a Saturday morning. More, please! I signed over.
The first time I arrived, I began to hover nervously, expecting the JLo lookalikes in bikinis tops to start pouring in, and making me feel bad about my trashy look in pajamas.
Suddenly, there were moms from the neighbourhood and moms from school, and then I realized I was unnecessarily worrying so much. “I assumed it was meant for attractive young people.” No! It is for people like me who want to get their young and attractive lifestyle back.
The music started, and our teacher, started shouting and dancing and pointing out people who sucked as we tried desperately to follow along. Within minutes, I told the lady next to me to call me an ambulance.
Despite the fact that I was so close to death, I was still hooked. Though, I had a hard time smiling during the skipping, jumping, and fist pumping, but I loved it.Till it started grinding bone on bone in my knees, and made it impossible for me to enjoy it further.
Maybe I Can Just Eat Plants
I decided that that I could try my best to steer clear of meat and cheese. So I bought a bunch of vegan cookbooks. I soaked the overnight oats; I ditched meat balls with soya chunks, and tried surviving with beans, carrots, and cauliflower. But how can I wipe the memory of the sharp, sweet sting of the taste buds from my mind that ruins whatever progress I make. So going forward, I would never again publicly refer to myself as a vegan.
Right now, I am practicing self-control, reciting my mantra to resist when I hear kernels popping like confetti and the siren of the self-serve soda machine. I tell "you don't need anything," "you'll be fine without them."
Are you like me who want to lose weight but can’t make it because of the obvious, leave your struggle in the comment. If you enjoyed my ramblings, then like and share the post.