I noticed recently that I was developing a small pooch in the belly area. This made me very sad because I was fairly certain that the culprit was beer, and I love beer.
Not one to dwell on sad feelings, I decided I would do something about it. I decided to GO ON A DIET (Insert scary music here, something like DUN DUN DUUUUUUUN!).
One problem I have with dieting is that it is all so freaking complex. You have your carbs, and your fats, and your sugars, and your glycemic index, etc, etc, etc. It is all stupid complicated and you pretty much have to become a nutritionist just to lose 10 pounds. It doesn't help that I find any food that isn't fried or coated in sugar extremely boring, so learning about all the foods I should be eating and never do is super low on my priority list. Everything changes every 5 years, so in reality, no one really knows what the shit they're talking about, anyway.
In order to simplify things enough that I would actually follow my new diet, I decided I would go with the easiest to understand plan that I could come up with... calories in/calories out. If you want to lose weight, just consume fewer calories than you burn. Or, in the words of my sister, "Don't eat so much!"
I mean really, what could go wrong?
The first three days were pretty OK. I was grumpy and bitchy, but was managing to not stuff my face as much as usual.
Friday was National Donut Day.
I felt like a zombie surrounded by brains that I couldn't eat. Free donuts. Everywhere. Fuckers.
I managed to not eat any of them. It was like some kind of miracle.
Mostly I was hungry. And the world hated me. I wanted to crawl into a corner and disappear.
Friday after work, I went with my boyfriend and parents on a long bike ride after work. It was something like 20 miles round trip, and we stopped at a pub for steaks and beer. I was thinking I deserved the indulgence after being so good. But I did have the smallest steak I could find (6oz) and went with a salad for the side instead of the usual fries.
The next morning, feeling perky, I sucked down a chocolate soy milk for breakfast, and my boyfriend and I took off on a hike.
There is still quite a bit of snow on the ground at the higher elevations, and this weekend was "Free National Parks Day". To avoid the crowds, we went to a nearby openspace area near Masonville, called Bobcat Ridge. This spot has a few advantages over other local hiking spots, including a 10,000 acre fire about 10 years ago that knocked down a good chunk of the woods, and scared away many of the locals. I wanted to shoot some black and white film, and a burnt down forest seemed like a good place to do that.
Initially, I was fine. I felt good, I felt strong, and I only felt a little bit hungry.
We stopped for lunch about an hour and a half later. By then, I was ready to start eating the wildflowers. Or maybe one of the passing mountain bikers.
After we ate, I was still hungry, but we were at about halfway through the loop we were on, so there was not a lot I could do about it. I sucked down more water and kept going.
Sometime later, between the sun and the hunger that didn't even feel like hunger anymore, I realized it felt like hell. I thought I was going to throw up, pass out, or both.
Later I realized I burned something like 1100 plus calories on my little hike, and ate something less than 500 all day. When I said I wanted to lose weight, I didn't mean "starve to death quickly".
Also, I really should have reapplied sunscreen.
And that is how my diet nearly killed me. I crawled through hot lava for these pictures. I hope you like them.