I'm entertained by Julian's talk of his gut. Wendy is not so amused because she thinks Julian actually believes he has a gut. I'm amused because I think Julian knows he hasn't got a gut, but he talks like he's got the biggest muffin top this side of Tim Horton's. I'm amused because I do the same thing.
I do have a gut, you know. Sure, because I'm tall and thin I'm able to hide it, but when my accordion-like frame compresses, I turn into a kettle drum.
Of course I'm exaggerating. I DO NOT look like a kettle drum. I look more like a woman who's about four months pregnant. You know....I've got the bump! The challenge, for me, is not to go 'full term', that's why I've decided to abstain from eating refined sugar for the month of June. Sugar is everywhere. It's in places where it shouldn't be. It's not killing me, but it's sustaining 'the gut'.
Often, in my house, we talk about the size of the gut. There's no point in Wendy trying to convince us that we don't have guts, so the conversation devolves into the magnitude of our guts.At least that's the conversation that Julian and I have. I believe, we all have an intrinsic sense of our bodies, that others can't truly appreciate. We know when we're on the fatty side of normal, and we know when we're on the lean side (not that that happens very often). I feel semi-bloated at the moment, and that's why I've taken the drastic measure of getting off the sugar. It's going to be an interesting month.
I hope that I feel better by the end of June, although I think the negative effects of sugar may work more insidiously over longer periods of time. What I really need is not one month of sugar-free living, but a life of healthy eating. It's tough though. Who wouldn't want to eat a cinnamon roll instead of a prune? And cinnamon rolls are everywhere: in the mall and restaurants and grocery stores and gas stations. A day doesn't go by without a cinnamon roll approaching you. Ditto for cookies.
For those of us who are weak, it's a death sentence. It's not a physical death sentence, unless 'the oh-bee-dees' takes you, as it's more of a psychological death sentence. When you feel bad about yourself, you eat more cinnamon rolls. The next thing you know you're huge and feeling even worse (and panting when you walk to the bakery). I'm lucky in that I have a body type and metabolism that makes it difficult for me to put on weight (except between my teats and my doodle-doodles).
So....how do we measure the effect of a weight management plan (I refuse to call it a diet) on our bodies? Today's image shows Wendy taking a very unscientific measurement of my back fat using barbeque tongs. Like I said, very unscientific. I suspect after one month only I will notice how I feel. If I still feel like a bloated whale after one month of being refined sugar free, then I may have to descend to the gates of hell. Yes, I'm threatening to do the hundred mile diet in July, but we'll see how my sugar-free life pans out. Sugar free should be easy. Eating food grown within a hundred miles of my house is difficult, unless you like turnip greens and oats (which I don't).
I had steel cut oats and blueberries for breakfast this morning. Healthy and tasteless. Gawd how I miss those sugary little bastard raisins that come in a box of raisin bran. Two scoops of gastro-intestinal misery in ever box. I'll never go back to raisin bran because as much as I enjoy the fibre and the fruit, I can't stand the thought that I'm being poisoned by big sugar. I'll never sell out to 'the man'. The man has a ship full of refined sugar. I have a mask and snorkel, a waterproof hand drill and a will to live life on my terms, not theirs.
Stay tuned, my readership of three and a half sweetie pies.
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