Got on the scale this morning. It told me I was down 3.4 pounds.
That’s not to be expected as a typical drop, but neither is it alarming in the first week of a major eating overhaul, especially when combined with a concerted effort to get my 10K steps in daily.
Pretty sure my caloric intake has dropped by up to half, four out of seven days. That’s…rather a lot more than I expected. I figured, like, a quarter, perhaps, but no. I’m really pretty sure I’m looking at 30-50%. No wonder I’m so goddamn fat.
Anyway, I need to stock up on more non-sugar-based snack foods, because my DEAR GOD I NEED SOME COOKIES is really more about DEAR GOD I NEED SOME CALORIES. I managed to deduce that this evening, before dinner, when, writing down what I’d eaten in the 10 hours I’d been up, I came up with…slightly less than 600 calories. That was Not Enough. No wonder I was dying for cookies or ice cream. I needed some goddamn *food*.
I’m still way the hell short of a reasonable intake tonight, which of course kind of leaves me going “…so *why* can’t I have some ice cream…?” (The answer to this is “because I have no self-restraint, and a drop becomes a flood.”)
One way or another I’ve survived a week of this crap without blowing it in any estimable way, and I’ve been rewarded by the scale for my efforts. My primary goal right now is to return to the weight I was six months ago, ideally before the thighs give out in my one pair of jeans so that I can possibly justify buying at least the same, if not a smaller, size. Odds are that it’ll take more than the minimum 3 more weeks of doing this that I’ve got planned.
Don’t worry. I plan to complain publicly like this the whole way through.