Oh, dear William, here we are again. "the blast of war blows in our ears..." and so we "...imitate the action of the tiger.” or else we'll "close the wall up with our...dead"* weight! I've been at this long enough to know that this might just be another unsuccessful skirmish but what's a veteran of the weight wars to do?
The last time I wrote in this "journal," some nearly 6 years now, I was focused on an entirely different concern: the safe return of my eldest son from captivity in Nigeria and the subsequent news on fate of the film that put him in harms way. That was a different sort of war, one of mostly words--and tears and prayers. But that crisis is behind us now; he is safely ensconced in the democracy of the new world and not, luckily, in any imminent danger of being detained except perhaps by his 4-year-old son.
No, this is a battle of a different sort; the battle to free the more slender version of me from the captivity of this prison of obesity. I know I'm still in there somewhere and I'm trying once again, as Shakespeare admonishes me, to "Stiffen the sinews, summon up the blood,
Disguise fair nature with hard-favour'd rage..."*
And so, this time I am trying a version of a diet, in which I follow a strict protocol of what to eat (easier than listing what not to eat!) and take natural supplements including HCG (human chorionic gonadotropin) drops. Apparently you can get the HCG in an injection (ouch!) but I personally like the play on words provided by "drops." As in, I plan to "drop" enough "drops" so that I "drop" the fat/pounds/weight before I "drop!" I know, I've read the stuff on the drops--the good and the bad--and frankly, the truth is that like King Henry V, I'm desperate and will try just about anything as long as I lose weight in so doing.
The first two days of the "diet" (Phase 1) the soldier is supposed to stuff herself, primarily with carbs, primarily to store up stores for the body to retrieve as on day 3 (Phase 2) the rations will cut dramatically. We are even told we should plan to gain significant amounts of weight in those first 2 days (and not to worry). Can I just say, I stuffed myself and gained a grand total of 1 (one) pound?! (also, not to worry) I wonder what this means? But while I wonder, I have to confess that as in most human endeavors (it seems to me anyway) the breathless anticipation of actually having to eat (No one heretofore has ever told me I MUST eat. I'm not sure why...) far exceeded the banal activity of actually doing so. I found myself not wanting to eat, to actually being nauseated by the very thought of having to stuff more food into my satiated stomach. And this was not because of the culinary options! I made sure to provide myself with fattening foods that I love (apparently a lot) and all the alcohol I could consume safely. And it all Made. Me. Sick.
What evil cunning and deceit is this, designed to make me nearly desperate to abandon all my favorite foods and drinks so that I want only the meager and plain foods of this diet! I couldn't wait for my "loading" days to be over! And so, they are. And so begins Phase 2. Ah, chicken breasts, garlic and spinach I love thee!
*William Shakespeare, Henry V"