Monday, October 15, 2007
I started the South Beach Diet this weekend. I know, I know... this blog is supposed to be about writing and writing goals and turning thirty-two and what not, but I started a diet. *I* started a diet. This is bloggable.
I'm not sure what inspired me to check out the official South Beach diet book last week, after all, for the last few years my health philosophy has been eat well, move a lot. This philosophy served me pretty well until I turned 27 and got a desk job and at the same time my metabolism decided to take a few years of vacation. After that, it was just a short slide into candy corn and Funions and so, South Beach.
A couple of words about diets: Any diet that tells you that you will not miss the food that you are giving up is LYING. Any diet that tells you that you will not be hungry IS LYING. Also, water, even eight glasses of it, does not fill you up.
On the other hand, there are positives. For one thing, the recipes in the book are idiot proof. I can make almost any of them, which is saying something coming from me, the girl who considers boiling frozen broccoli cooking. In the three days that I have been on the diet I have made a Mediterranean green beans, balsamic chicken, ginger pepper chicken, and a baby spinach salad with tomatoes and mozzarella. Not bad. And Hubs is happy because he gets to have all this and a piece of cake for dessert.
And yes, I've already gotten the fad diet lecture from a few friends and there are a couple of more who scoff at any diet that doesn't include running 10+ miles daily. However, I read the book. The book doesn't seem so bad. And, if at the very least, this diet gets me to replace candy corn with cherry tomatoes, well, that doesn't seem like a step in the wrong direction, now does it?