I'm not really missing bread or potatoes at all, and decent, seedy bread, especially home-made, was what I expected to miss most. I was never too bothered about rice anyway, and wasn't absolutely passionate about pasta either. I've created a low carb 'porridge' work around (Greek yoghurt mixed with ground flax seeds and psyllium husk, which 'sets' into a nice porridgy consistency*) so mid-morning break is no longer a trauma.
*don't know what happened to Friday's though - it seemed to turn into slug-trail gloop, not porridge!
I'm thoroughly enjoying eating loads of gorgeous kale and cabbage and cauliflower and spinach and eggs and avocados and yoghurt. I've rediscovered a delight in nuts, cheeses, meats and... er, butter.
There.... I've gone and said it. I've outed one of my guilty secrets. The fat lass is enjoying butter! What's worse, we've even cooked with cream a couple of times!
You can see, can't you, that I still can't put hand on heart and say I feel 100% comfortable with the dietary change. I am guessing this is legacy stuff - mostly because I still can't make my inner monitor, that 'gut-feeling' part of me, accept the increased fat, after sooo many years of 'low fat' or 'no fat' as a mantra. It still 'feels' wrong/bad/naughty/sinful... But I'm sticking with it because my logical brain tells me it's the right thing to do and, despite the inner guilt trips, I am actually liking it.
My one little spark of defiance to low carb comes in the form of a nice, sweet, juicy, Pink Lady apple every day. Yes, I do know they are almost certainly higher in carbs than I 'ought' to be eating for a snack, but when it comes to these it's to hell with absolute compliance - I'll forego something else, but I won't/can't put aside my apple addiction. Fat lass stamps her trotters!
Checked for ketones in urine again at the weekend and, although I'd expected (hoped) to see a nice pretty deep purple response like last weekend, it was quite a lot less distinct than before. However, any change to purple = ketosis, so I mustn't get hung up over a colour change, even if it's paler. The fact that I got a colour change at all is in itself very reassuring (albeit in a slightly odd sort of way) as it tells me I'm still 'on track'. Hence the purple 'heart' above.
The other signpost to progress is the scales and, given the radical change in diet, my weight is remarkably steady. I've definitely quit losing, phew!, (and put back on a teensy bit) so I'm just hovering around the 54kg mark (eight and a half stone) again - just below this morning. However, with that, even if up or down a pound or so, I'm happy.
Er... make that delighted actually, not least because that's the sort of number I could never even dream about way back in 2007 when, obese and uncomfortable and unhappy and not much less than double this weight, I started my marvelous weight-loss journey.
Lovely hubby is equally happy with the new lifestyle, which makes me a much more relaxed person as I do rather fret about him like a mother hen! He is itching to get back to some decent exercise though - more specifically, onto the wondrous Connie. Now he's put a pound or so back on, and if he can gain another pound, we'll feel happier for him to get back at it.
I think I've made him quite envious in the mornings when Connie and I have a happy, early morning rowing session together. Some mornings there just aren't enough minutes though, as I enjoy it so much I could keep on rowing for a lot longer than I've time for. Good old work, and public transport timetables, drag me away from her... sigh.
Hey, fancy the fat lass wishing there was more time for exercise! Times really have changed, haven't they?
Onwards ever...
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