Between Hunger and Starvation

For the last three weeks, I’ve been dieting in my attempt to lose 15 pounds by graduation (and in my attempt to accomplish SOMETHING in my “off” time besides watching Food Network for 7 hours straight and reading every post ever at Digital Photography School…not that that’s what I’ve been doing…anyway…)

It’s been tough to say the least. Let’s take this in two parts - 

Eating: My biggest challenge at first was giving up snacking. As someone who routinely eats two bags of Whole Wheat Goldfish Crackers (hence forth known as “Cheddar Cheese Heroine”) in a week, this has been quite the battle, especially because I for some reason bought four bags right before signing up for Weight Watchers. Well done, Amanda. Well done. Having to keep track of my daily points has really guilted me into kicking the heroine habit (3 of my precious 21 points for 55 goldfish!? Really, Weight Watchers?), as has the fact that counting out 55 goldfish (said to be a “serving size” but in actuality, a big freakin’ snack tease) is crazy annoying. Thus, major snacking problem kind of solved. 

For the last week, in fact, I haven’t really thought about snacking, but I’ve still been hungry most of the time, which makes me just an AWESOME person to be around. Just ask my mom. I’m a joy when my blood sugar is low. Yesterday I actually snapped at my dad for driving to Barnes and Noble without explaining why we were going. Barnes and Noble is my own personal paradise! Clearly, hunger is my not best state. The other hard thing about the constant hunger is when I eat out, all I want is the biggest, most fried thing on the menu.  It’s hard to make sensible choices, like ordering a salad and girlled chicken, when you’re prepared to eat your own face. 

Despite these challenges, I’ve been doing well. In Boston last week, my biggest calorie intake was definitely in booze, but it was my best friend’s 22nd birthday AND the Superbowl (which my absolute favorite sports team ever WON), so I didn’t really have a choice, and as for food, I rocked. Instead of ordering granola pancakes at my favorite brunch spot, I got a spinach, egg-white omelet, and instead of getting fish and chips at Beacon Hill Tavern, I got roasted chicken. Go me! Each ended up being satisfying and filling, so really, once I make a decision, I don’t feel like I’m missing out. It’s getting myself to spit out the order that’s tough. 

On the working out front, my personal goal is to work out at least four times a week. Obviously, going to Boston didn’t help AT ALL, as I’m now barred from the school gym as they treat outsiders at my school with the same suspicion the government treats terrorist suspects. At home, my confidence in my work-out routine isn’t helped by the fact that my parents are like the fitness twins, running four times a week and going to, what I call, the devil fitness class two nights a week. (Seriously, after I went to this class once, I could barely get out of bed for a week. I refuse to go back, especially since they told the instructor how much I hated it. That wouldn’t be awkward at all.) Before my trip back to Boston, I was doing the elliptical thing a few times a week and trying out some classes (and “by trying” out I mean almost fainting in a kickboxing class and never going back). I’m definitely going to try to work on this now that my eating is getting better. It would be stupid not to take advantage of a free gym membership while I can, even if I can never work out as much as my parents. 

Despite all the struggles, I’ve lost four pounds already, which is almost a third of the way towards my goal. I’m pretty proud of myself for sticking with it this long. I rarely have this level of commitment to a diet. Hopefully, I’ll update you with some stellar progress next week. 

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