Guess which bird is me?
In a fit of lunacy, I somehow let myself get talked in to doing Whole30 for the month of February. In case you are unaware of what that is, that means you go 30 days (or 28 as the case may be) without eating dairy, sugar, grains (of ANY kind- no fresh corn even), legumes, and alcohol.
It’s pretty much as awful as it sounds.
The creators of this fad diet say that the purpose behind it is to reset your palate, reduce inflammation in the body by removing trigger foods, and help to create a healthier relationship with food. But let’s face it, unless you are actually trying an elimination diet to discover the cause of a true physical ailment (ie: diary sensitivity), the real reason you do something like this is to lose weight.
I have lost no weight.
You aren’t supposed to weigh yourself for the entire time you’re on this diet (just like the main focus isn’t supposed to be weight loss), but some of the other people in our group did so of course I had to join in. After all, if I didn’t easily cave to peer pressure I wouldn’t have joined the group to begin with and I’d be eating chocolate covered strawberries (that I dipped myself!) right now! But no dice for me- I’m still right there at my heftiest weight ever. *grumble grumble*
But hey, who cares about losing weight, at least all of this healthy food has got me feeling great, right? Nope. It seems like everyone else has turned a corner where they are starting to settle in to a groove and have started feeling better, but I still feel exactly the same. Well, exactly the same but also MUCH crabbier and with a newfound hatred towards food, and life, and other people. So that’s fun. I didn’t really need to become MORE misanthropic, thanks.
I guess the upside is that if I’m going to feel the same whether my diet is made up of lattes and cookies or all fruits, veggies and meats, I can definitely stop feeling guilty about downing an entire box of shortbread. The downside is that I still have 15 days to go in this experiment, and I’m likely going to still be fat at the end of it.
Update: it has been brought to my attention that this post was “littered with typos and misspellings.” More than my posts usually are, anyway. I think I’ve corrected most if not all of them, but any others you find will just have to serve as further proof of my rapid deterioration as a result of such stringent dietary guidelines. My brain likes sugar, yo