Five weeks ago I started a diet for the first time in over six years. The last time I embarked on this venture, I had a stronger motivation than vanity. I was diagnosed with Diabetes Type 1, which was causing POCS (Polycystic Ovary Syndrome.) In simple words, the unbalanced sugar level in my body was atrophying my reproductive system and destroying my motherhood dream.
The treatment included a zero carbs diet and the diabetes prescription called Metformin, commonly known as Glucophage. The result? I lost 30 pounds between March and June and my sugar level went back to normal. It was the thinnest I’ve ever been in my life, but my skinny days were numbered, because the stork started her trip in August and delivered my baby boy the next April.
Dieting is one of my biggest challenges. My family and friends know that I would eat on death row. Not even the worst flu–the kind that makes food taste like paper–stops me from eating. And worst, my down fall is sugar. If I have to choose between a juicy steak or a gallon of ice cream, I take the ice cream. I guess that’s why people tell me I am sweet.
In addition, dieting these days almost requires a masters degree to sort out all the information about organic food. Heck, until recently I thought super foods were the new members of the Justice League! Besides, some of those super foods sound so goofy. You tell me, do “astrologically farmed eggs” make any sense?
So, after watching countless TV ads for Nutrisystem and all the success stories of athletes and actors, I told my husband, “This is it! I am tired of feeling like a stuffed turkey!” I described the diet plan to him and his eyes sparkled because, unlike me, he loves dieting and all the working-out crap. Plus, I remembered that several studies have shown dieting as a couple has a higher success.
Long story short, we started eating what I called “Astronaut Food” on July 21. The best thing was that I didn’t have to think about what to eat and in general, the food was tiny, but eatable–especially the mini-pizzas and the snacks, which include several chocolate cookies and pretzels.
I also loved that I didn’t have to cook as much–except for our little son–and my husband had to refrain from buying food for a football team. I will never understand why, when he goes to the market, he comes back with two of everything! Sometimes I think he has a family of refugees hidden somewhere.
The first week passed and I lost 4 pounds and my husband lost 5. In the second week, I lost 1 pound and my husband 2. By the third week the plastic and fake taste was driving me crazy. And to make it worse, the majority of the entrees had beans, which were causing me discomfort and “un-lady-like” symptoms.
Although I saw good results, I stopped eating the food last Thursday. I called the customer service line to request the return instructions, only to find that I had to pay for the shipping. Darn TV offer; they always get you with the free shipping! I had to pay $41 for mailing the stupid box, and I am still waiting for my refund.
Nevertheless, I lost 6 pounds in 3 weeks, but I think the success was due to the fact that because I didn’t like the food, I really only ate half. Even though I couldn’t continue the diet, my brain did get the jump-start I needed. I have been reducing the portion size of my meals, and now I eat one snack in the morning and one in the afternoon. This helps me avoid eating sweets and fast food when I am at work.
On the other hand, my husband–who is more disciplined than I–stuck to the plan and has shed more pounds. At the same time, he finally learned that even if it is healthy food, the portion size counts. Therefore, he now eats like a normal human being and not as if he were Fred Flintstone.
Feeling better is worth any sacrifice, especially if it means escaping a disease like diabetes. I just hope, because I cut my sugar intake, I don’t become The Grinch.
Thanks for reading and sharing.
This column was sponsored by La’Rae Hendrix, Rodan+Fields Independent Consultant. Redefining the future of skincare. (904) 770-5278