So, today marks 30 days since I completed my second Whole30, and in the spirit of my honest pursuit of improved humanhood, it seemed appropriate to touch base here. It’s a day of reflection, realization and, OK, a tablespoon of shame. It goes fast; both the time and the downward diet spiral.
Last month I listened to Sarah Silverman’s audiobook The Bedwetter: Stories of Courage, Redemption and Pee. In it, she
said:
“Look, there’s not much useful to take away from this book – it’s largely stories of a woman who has spent her life peeing on herself. But there is one way I really believe I can help the world, and that is to encourage everyone, in all things, to ‘Make It a Treat’.‘Make It a Treat’ is similar in spirit to ‘everything in moderation,’ but still very distinct. ‘Moderation’ suggests a regular, low-level intake of something. MIAT asks for more austerity; it encourages you to keep the special things in life special.”
With the simple substitution of my “Thin Mints” or “Butterburgers” in place of Sarah’s “weed” (which she goes on to point out is among her favorite treats), it’s completely applicable advice. I am realizing that I am a woman incapable of making things a treat.
Prompted by a whiff of fryer oil or hint of chocolate glaze, I can generate a list on the spot of reasons I deserve it. It’s Monday, and Mondays suck. It’s Friday and Fridays are for fatty foods and cocktails. It’s 10:30 and I was born at 10:30. See?
Needless to say – reigning this conversation back to its Whole30 roots – I fell right off the wagon and got run over by all the tires, including the spare. It’s not a total loss. I am aware of what I need to eat to feel lighter and more energetic, and isn’t that half the battle? I once worked out a deal with a coworker where he promised to live at my house and slap food out of my hand in exchange for him getting to eat said food. (It’s not the worst idea I’ve ever had.)
But fly or fail, the great thing about the Whole30 community, particularly their killer Instagram feed, is you always have a voice deep down whispering, “There are too many ingredients in that.” “Sugar sucks the life out of you.” and, “Keep it simple, stupid.” And for that, I’m forever grateful.
On a weekday, I can hang in. Typically a version of this Tuna Salad for lunch, partnered with an apple and almond butter (Costco has sustainable tuna and a no-sugar almond butter option). But after a semi-sensible dinner, I go sniffing out chocolate like a shark tracking blood in the water. I once ate a chocolate Santa in April out of desperation. What … the …
It also seems like regularly working out makes me a garbage disposal. But boredom does the same thing, so that theory’s kind of shot to shit right out of the gate.
So, what can you do? Monday is 32 days past and as good a day as any to hit reset. The flu is finally being exorcised out of this house (I’ve been diffusing lemon oil like mad) and spring is like 13 days away so I should probably think about what people are going to see when these layers come off. Monday it is!
