Because cutting alcohol wasn’t a challenge last month, I’ve extended my consumption ban into the realm of processed sugar. It’s all under the guise of aiding Tough Mudder training, but really it’s because sugar’s the hardest drug for me to kick. When you’re sitting at a desk for many hours a day, it can be nigh impossible to curb the allure of a little sugary escapism. It sounds idiotic, but it’s making me grumpy, irritable and taking its toll on my psyche. I figure if I switch to fruit and natural sugars for a month, I can see if the cravings abate. Or I’ll become a joyless “food is fuel” zombie, consuming only for the vital nutrients I can intake. All soylent all the time. I’ll try switching to brew coffee – flavoured with trace amounts of honey or maple – in lieu of my daily mocha. No more protein bars after workouts. It’ll be a piece of fruit and a small handful of nuts. I’ve recently taken to cottage cheese again after remembering that it exists. Perhaps I can get a chunky IV drip sorted and pump out straight to my protein seeking veins. TASTE THE HEALTH! I was reminded lately that nutritional yeast is a thing, which I knew through my childhood as “brufax”. It’s laden with protein, used as a cheese substitute by vegans and it’s actually really tasty. Perhaps I’ll cut out the middleman and sprinkle it into my coffee. WHY DOES MY BODY HAVE INSUFFICIENT ROOM FOR ALL THESE NUTRIENTS?
I dunno, dumb internalised issues mean I never feel as healthy, trim or toned as I’d like. It’s a process, but I’m still looking in the mirror and seeing all those bits that put me off rather than congratulating myself on my own successes. It’s a recipe for nothing but self-loathing, but the shifting it is the epitome of easier said than done. It’s especially moronic because I know I’m gonna look back in 10 years and think man, I used to look great and spent so long shitting on myself. Hindsight is an asshole though. I’ve been on a good track in therapy lately with someone whose methodology fits my needs, so I’m hoping to be able to salvage a smidgeon of self-love/respect and dump the resulting stat points into charisma. I’ve got high hopes.
Seriously though, in every other way my life is going so well that my problems subsist of curbing my sugar intake. In the scope of humanity, I am the 1%. I’ve gotta recognise this and appreciate how lucky I am, faced with a world of people who have a hard time walking the street for any multitude of reasons. Some people have trouble losing teeth to meth and I’m here worried about losing weight when there’s so much sugar in the world. Maybe the answer is to just get hooked on meth. I feel like junkies in films are always named “Slim” for a reason. Meth head chic? Or maybe just harden my resolve and grow some discipline? Like fruit, I hear it’s better for you when it’s organic.
Costs more too. Therapy ain’t cheap. I’ve never taken meth, is it more expensive than therapy?