Day One ... of my second year

On July 9, 2012, I embarked on a very low-cal diet (initially modeled on Metabolism Miracle, by Diane Kress, but only as a starting point.) My BMI was 30, almost exactly, and I had a target of sub-25. For days -- a couple weeks, actually -- it seemed bleak: Too big a task, too ambitious a goal, too different a lifestyle (for someone whose two favorite foods were --are-- pizza and sandwiches), too much, too impossible, too everything.

Then one night, hyperventilating in near panic, I sat myself down and said "Calm down! Why don't you pretend you are taking an evening class -- 19th century fiction, say, or Spanish, or learning C++ programming. It takes a year. At first it will seem strange and unfamiliar -- new habits, new schedule, new arrangements. But you can do it for one measly year, can't you?"

(It happens I had just finished a year's study of pastel painting at the local community college, so it was an apt analogy for me.)

With this new viewpoint, my sighing and moaning and despairing and doubting quit. I made myself settle into it. And before long, a couple spoonsful of tuna salad wrapped in a lettuce leaf no longer seemed so horrifying. It ain't tuna on rye, true, but lettuce has a really appealing crunch to it -- so there!

Without counting calories, the pounds began chipping away. After six weeks, I went for the dreaded blood test (expecting, having eaten all that animal protein -- and, face it, saturated FAT-- that the numbers would be horrific. Like LDL rising from 200 to, oh, 800? My triglycerides rising from 150 to, what, 2000? My total cholesterol from 300 to, perhaps, 15,000? ) But, wait! Everything was down! LDL was 80. Triglycerides were 53. Total cholesterol just 189. The low-carb theorists, led by Gary Taubes, seemed to be right: fat doesn't make you fat, carbs and sugar do.

Greatly relieved and emboldened, I carried on the low carb routine with renewed enthusiasm and within three months I had lost 30 pounds. I was down to a BMI of 26. All without watching calories. In fact, I even let myself have a nightly glass (or three) of wine. No problem.

Then the much-hated PLATEAU set in. Day by day, then week by week, finally month by month, the scale no longer budged. I quit eating red meat, substituting fish and chicken. I upped my exercise. Nothing helped! It was discouraging, but I learned to accept it. For my entire life I had been in one of two states: losing or gaining, never in-between. But now my weight was the very definition of stable. Dammit, a BMI of 26 might not be great but it was not the worst thing, either -- especially with those great blood tests (soon reconfirmed.)

As spring wore on more and more of my friends -- impressed with my weight loss -- began adopting the low-carb routine, and nearly everyone of them was soon bragging about how much he or she had lost. Every week someone was setting a new low record! They were leaving me waaay behind.

So a month ago I got mad and determined to count calories, dammit! I journaled everything I ate and did the calculations to make sure I was at or below target. No more wine or "64"-brand low-carb beer -- nothing but club soda for me! No more nuts! No more low-fat cheese! I doubled the spinach and broccoli, cut the Newman's Own Lite Italian Dressing. No more Real Mayonnaise with Olive Oil! I made sure I exercised 90 minutes a day, six days a week!

It worked. The pounds finally began falling off again, and when I reached Day 365 -- yesterday -- I had trimmed off 40 pounds from my starting weight -- and I was within one pound of my "impossible" target. This morning I began Year Two, Day 1 with a BMI of 24.5.

So if I have hit all my targets, why am I continuing into my new second year? One look in the mirror tells me my body is not finished yet. But I'm not obsessed. Mainly, after a full year, my low-carb diet has morphed from mere diet to cuisine.

And when the next plateau hits -- as it will -- this time I won't fight it, but will accept it, with gratitude. I'll crack a bottle of champagne and have a knick of cheddar. Because at that point I will truly be the new -- the weight-stable -- me.