July 24th, 2001

You must be joking

the art of the diet

I've been dieting seriously, stubbornly, furiously since last September, following the Atkins diet. When I started (actually, a couple weeks after I started -- finding a scale with more than a 330lb capacity took me a while), I weighed 367 pounds. Atkins basically prescribes restricting carbohydrate intake, and eating meat, vegetables (low-glycemic index -- no potatoes, carrots, corn) and limited amounts of fruit.

So how's that workin' for ya? you may ask. The rest of this note was written this morning to a low-carb mailing list I'm on, and should answer that.

I spent most of June and July with my weight bouncing between 319 and 314 (I weigh in daily and throw the results into the trend chart software found at http://www.fourmilab.ch/hackdiet/). Since the next "small goal" is to break 300, and it was obvious from the trend charts that my rate of loss was levelling off (this is why I love them as a tool), I decided to knock down my consumption of chicken hot dogs (they have corn syrup in them) from 5 lbs/week to 1 lb/week (that one stress-day when I commute into the office from home 2 hours away). I'm home six days a week, now; I can damned well cook lunch for myself when I'm home. (Di's chili recipe has been a real life-saver in that department, I might add. :-)

Anyway, I weighed in at 312 on Sunday, and 308 yesterday and today. Mmm, whoosh. (This plateau plateau plateau sudden whoosh! of weight coming off is very typical of the Atkins diet, but I don't understand why it works that way.)

I still struggle with the green-veggies thing, but have been more adventurous about vegetables in general. Had buttered mashed turnip with a steak last week; that was pretty tasty (if still a bit fibrous). I tried Atkin's suggestion for shredding a daikon (oriental radish) root and deep-frying it as a substitute for french-fries. My review: it's a fine carrier for salt and oil, and I suppose if you're jonesing for french fries, it could help. Fortunately, french fries aren't something I crave much, so I doubt I'll make this often. It was pretty darn rich, and I didn't want to eat anything else after I finished it off! (Possibly the fat was too cool -- I need a frying thermometer, clearly.)

After I break 300, I tell myself, I will have no excuse for staying off my horses. Or I'll have to find another excuse. :-)
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    accomplished accomplished
You must be joking


The chunks of leftover chicken from last night, microwaved. And for dessert, a pint of organic raspberries with some heavy cream and a touch of stevia.

There's a lot to be said for losing weight while not constantly feeling hungry, or being required to gnaw on cardboard. (Rice cakes. Who invented that crap, anyway?)

I added two or three backdated entries from my email archive, but they haven't shown up yet. Perhaps, since they're backdated (the oldest one dates to November 2000), they just don't show up as "recent"? Not clear.
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    pleased pleased
You must be joking

dogs and water

One of those completely undocumented pseudo-scientific bits of information that keeps floating through my mailbox has stuck: optimum water intake is 1 oz water per 2 lbs body weight per day. For me, that works out to something like 4.75 liters/day. It comes with a long list of bad things that happen to you when you're dehydrated, and how quickly you can hit that point, which I won't reproduce here. The Atkins diet requires you to drink a lot of water anyway, so I have a shelf in my fridge that just holds water bottles, which I rotate: 2 1liter, 2 1.5liter. Glub. Glub.

Every one of the current journal entries (as opposed to the backdated ones) have been written with 85lbs of snoozing German Shepherd at my feet. So I suppose that, and liralen's comment about Jet's leaps of joy, reminded me to write a little about Sable.

What does Sable have in common with Jet? Well, she has a fine long muzzle attached to her very solid skull, which she flings about with great abandon when she's happy. One of our games requires me to shake her muzzle back and forth gently, while chanting "Dog's Got a Nose", and other things that pass for baby talk in my household. (I must note at this point that "izza wizza whozza best puppy" does not fall under that category, and entities engaging in such will be escorted to the door. :-) Anyway, I have learned not to play this game while lying in bed (with Sable on the floor next to me), as it's entirely likely that the leaping and capering about which occurs at the end of the game will get me bashed in the face with a fine large dog nose. And don't even start me on the huge error of getting one's face in the way of a horse who is swinging his head to nail a fly. That one will leave bruises and broken eyeglasses in its wake.
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