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Escape from Fat Camp

Hard on Heels | Escape from Fat Camp
Hard on Heels | Escape from Fat Camp

Is it just me? Right after finishing a 12-16 week strict diet - the minute I get off stage – I feel like I’ve escaped from fat camp. Or from the Gulaag. Or from jail. Or from whatever prison you want to imagine. I’ve held back all this time. I have been excruciatingly good. I have measured. I have prepped. I have sweated. I have given life and blood to look my best for a few hours. And now I feel I should be able to get some recompense for all my suffering. 

God bless all those people who “reverse diet”. What control they must have to keep denying themselves as they slowly increase their carb intake. To me, that all sounds like a slow death-by-diet.  I admire them all – I just don’t have any intention of following in their path. 

The minute I step off that stage I immediately want to indulge. Oh, heck, why lie? I want to OVERindulge – over and over again. And repeat it again the very next day. After a month of only white and green food (white tilapia and green asparagus) I am gobsmacked by the virtual endless colors of food. I (re)discover red peppers, pink salmon and orange carrots. Oh, the colors. And, oh, the myriad of flavors. I’d forgotten them all. I roam the aisles of the supermarket like an addict looking for her drug of choice. Everything is sooo good. Everything is sooo yummy. But some things are yummier than others. 

Which leads to my sorrowful confession. Within 3 days of my competition I ate an entire 12 ounce jar of Justin’s Natural Honey Peanut Butter. I ate it on rice cakes, on crackers, on top of (protein) pancakes and – more often than not – straight from the jar. I am pretty sure that the 3000 calories in that jar of peanut butter is more than I ingested in the entire last week of my competition prep. 

I know. I have issues. So I am proud to announce that I have been peanut butter free for the last three weeks. It has been a struggle. My oldest child loves his PB&J sandwiches so the temptation is there every time I open the cabinet above the sink. I try not to look at it too often or too long. If I do, I am pretty sure I will justify having just one little spoonful. “What could it hurt?”  “It’s not bad if taken in moderation.” “I can control myself.” Oh, the lies I would tell myself. So I choose total abstinence. No half steps. No bogus alternatives like “only natural peanut butter” or “only PB Fit”. I’ve tried those before and quickly fallen off the wagon. So, NO peanut butter of ANY type or texture for me. I have a sponsor, I’m doing the steps and I am working towards my 4-week chip. 

So say a prayer and wish me luck. I’ll really need it.

(Now if I could only control my intake of humus.)

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