Someone else posted about having "epiphanies" regarding low-carbing,
and that got me thinking, as I creep toward the 50-pounds-lost mark,
about some of mine. There's no scientific/nutritional education to be
had from the following, just some things I've noticed while making
this journey ...

-- Eating something "forbidden" almost never turns out to be as good
as I think it'll be. On the one hand, a lovely, occasional dessert in
a fine restaurant is a pleasure. A momentary pleasure to be sure, and
one that will postpone my weight loss, but a true pleasure. On the
other hand, the discovery that my husband stashed some peanut butter
cups in the freezer at some forgotten time in the past is exciting in
that "Hey! I didn't know we had crack in the house!" sort of a way,
but eating two or three of the peanut butter cups isn't at all
satisfying and just makes me feel stupid afterwards.

-- Exercise helps me lose weight. Yeah, yeah, we've all heard this our
entire lives. Burning calories, increasing metabolism, etc. Blah blah
blah. But knowing something intellectually (and willfully ignoring it)
is far different from seeing it actually work when you do it. Go fig.

-- Just because I'm not hungry doesn't mean I shouldn't eat. A
lifetime of dieting has turned my body into an efficient fat-storage
machine and, when I stop eating, it slows down production. Skipping
meals for me actually slows my weight loss ... and I usually find
that, once my plate of protein-and-green-veg is in front of me, even
though I didn't feel hungry I'll chow it all down. And feel all the
better for it later when I don't have a blood-sugar dip.

-- Broccoli is a magic weight-loss bullet. Don't ask me why, but the
mornings I show significant weight loss on the scale often come after
a day where I ate steamed, buttered broccoli at a meal. This has
happened so many times that it's becoming a personal superstition.

-- Maltitol = Good, Lactitol = Bad. Your experiences may differ
dramatically, of course. But for me, lactitol means an extended stay
in the bathroom. Maltitol-sweetened items, however, neither stall me
nor cause gastric distress. And in a related note ...

-- Fiber is my friend. It took all this time for me to understand why
my dad was so diligent about swilling Metamucil. Now I know. Oh, how I
know.

-- There is such a thing as too-big of a steak. My husband still
refuses to understand this, but a six-ounce ribeye means I'll show a
loss on the scale, while a 12-ounce ribeye is just an enormous gut
bomb that contains more protein than I can digest and metabolize
properly. Not that I don't still occasionally try, mind you.

-- Some convenience foods are, well, convenient. Two or three times a
month I eat one of the dreaded meal-replacement bars -- Advantage or
Carb Solutions, usually. Why? Because I have a movie screening at noon
or in the evening and just can't work a "real meal" into the equation.
Sorry, but that works for me -- they quell my hunger, give me an
adequate serving of protein, and stay within the perameters of my
diet. You don't like it, tough. It works for me.

-- Low-carb tortillas are a gift from the gods. 'nuff said.

-- Ditto the digital food scale. It's a control freak's best pal.

Dawn