The start of my 100-Day Green-Smoothie Challenge
I recently (and by recently, I mean 5 days ago) became a hypocrite. I’d never espoused "fad" dietary changes, and in particular, I’d regarded juicing and smoothies as “real dumb.” I also didn't think gluten-sensitivity was a thing. But this is what happened to make me take back my words and decide to go on a 100 day green-smoothie journey:
The last time I wrote in this blog (holy heck, has it really been 7 months?!), I was starting a new job in New York City. All was great. That is, until in the span of these past few months, I gained six pant-sizes, my midsection burgeoning uncontrollably and spilling out of waistband after waistband. Dang.
I bought new jeans, sadly passing over the size 4 shelf that I once frequented to reach for the 8’s and then 10’s (keep in mind that I’m a person of limited stature so while size 10 sounds OK for a normy, it equates a pretty sizeable strain on my smaller frame), and followed up the sad mall excursion with a trip to Haagen Dazs (nothing quite cheers me up the way dulce de leche drizzled in fudge does). I bought new slacks (no more cute colors like plum and kelly green - gotta stick to slimming black and navy), and comforted myself with a sloppy, sloppy all-the-way double cheeseburger and a heaping bag o’ fries from Five Guys. I made those purchases with decided defeat and sullen stoicism. I should just accept my new reality, right?
But then I hit rock bottom, when I found myself perusing the maternity yoga pant section. Nope. Final straw. Camel’s back - broken.
I decided I needed to find myself. I’m sure I still existed somewhere …. underneath all this carbohydrate-enabled tonnage.
I went to visit my parents, and took a good look at myself in a full-length mirror for the first time in nearly half a year (no room for such a contraption in my NYC apartment). The trouble really was my tummy. It jutted out stubbornly, making things like pants very uncomfortable. Even when I woke up in the morning, my stomach was far from flat; it looked like I’d just eaten… for two.
I weighed myself for the first time in forever (again, no room for such a thing in NYC, so, thanks parents for letting me panic at the scale in your home). But get this: I weighed the exact same as I did when I was a size four: 130 pounds… What?!
I re-calibrated and tried again. Day after day. Still 130 pounds. Totally weird.
This prompted me to look deep into the interwebs (a dangerous place, I know)... And this is what I’ve found so far:
(1)I probably lost some muscle mass. Fat weighs less than muscle so maybe it balanced out.
(2)The apparent width-gain may not be fat at all - it might just be bloating/water retention from eating badly.
Here’s the thing, guys. I had already stricken wine and soda from my consumption list in January as 2015 Resolutions (prompted by my propensity for dental caries), and it has done nothing for me. I had begun a 6 week candy-hiatus for Lent, and surprise surprise, no effect. I had taken on 4-5 miles on the treadmill for 3-4 sessions a week (prompted by a need to decompress after work - 8 straight hours of staring at a spreadsheet, mentally willing your offset formula to work is enough to drive anyone batty). Nothing.
In other words….It’s not as simple as calories in vs. calories out.
My trusty Google nutrition degree tells me that it might be digestion. Maybe eating crap piled on crap for all these years really caught on to me; it might also be specific… Maybe I’m not eating enough roughage. Maybe I’m sensitive to lactose (which I consume every day in coffee garnish form and in babybel cheese wheel form) or to gluten (which I consume every day in all conceivable forms).
Ironically enough, I used to internally scoff a little when people who don’t have Celiac disease tell me, “I’m gluten free.” Of course you are, the mean little voice in my head would say, And what are some other ways you’re a special, special little snowflake? Especially because I really did know someone who had Celiac disease and I felt angry that others were almost making light of it by saying, oh yes I can’t do gluten either, boo-hoo. It felt disrespectful toward people with Celiac disease.
Anyway. This is why I never blog anymore. I intend to write like three sentences about why I am making a lifestyle change. But end up with the Magna Carta. Saved in Drafts. Forever.
Essentially, I’m going to try have a green smoothie every single day for 100 days (roughage for the win). I started on Sunday, and this is my 5th day. Concurrently, I am going to try to cut lactose for awhile, and then cut gluten for awhile (but not at the same time, because "controlled experiment") to see if it alleviates my literal growing pains.
I’ll update as much as I can. Wish me luck, guys!
